Born Of Anger
by Glamagirl
Summary: He wants to leave with a bang, but when the last person in the world he expected pays him a visit, things start to get more personal.
1. Chapter 1

**Diclaimer**: I don't own anyone in this story, but if anyone knows how I can get Punk, please let me know ;p

**A/N:** I've been fighting a mayor case of writers block, but as soon as I saw Punk's promo on Raw (epic people, that was the best promo ever) my muses started to wake up and I just had to write this one! It has spoilers of Raw 6/27/11 and yes, it has John Cena! Ah, I know, I know, I'm a sellout! Let me think what you think ;)

**Born of Anger**

CM Punk could feel his blood boiling through his veins; it was making him feel hot and feverish and as he walked with secure steps through the back corridors of the arena, he had the distinct feeling that everyone was watching him.

He didn't care, he was used to have people stealing tentative glances at him as he walked by and besides, if there was something he knew before going out in front of Las Vegas crow that night, it was that after he talked his talk and everything he has been harboring inside his chest would be out, people would not only stare after him, they were going to talk.

That has been his main goal, after all that morning he woke up with a 'fuck it all' attitude and he took advantage of it. He went, he talked his heart out in front of a live audience and surprise, surprise, production cut him off when he was getting to the good part and yeah, he also got suspended.

Actually, even though he has been expecting something like a suspension to happen, deep inside what he has been hoping was that his talk would rile people up to a point where they would stop whatever they were doing so they could think on his words and comprehend that it wasn't sour grapes what he was talking; he has been hoping that he could make the guys backstage take a look to their own positions in the company and prompt them into taking action against the tyranny that was Vince McMahon and the big advisors that encouraged him to keep everyone in the back but the golden boys buried.

But it didn't work like that, for all his efforts he just got an in front of everyone suspension, lots of people staring and a good deal of whispers behind his back. Ah, but fuck that, just the satisfaction of sitting in that ramp and say all the things he said was worth a suspension and more.

Or was it? He wasn't sure yet because even though it has been worth it in his mind, he was still mad about the suspension and he hoped this didn't get in the way for his title shot.

He definitely hoped that wouldn't be the case because more than anything in the world, he wanted to walk out of his contract being the Champion.

Tensing his jaw to a point where it was painful, the Straight Edge superstar quickened his steps until he finally got to the door of his locker room and without thinking it twice he kicked the wooden barrier as hard as his trained legs could. The door gave in immediately and snarling his lips he got inside the room to look for his stuff.

He couldn't deny it, he was riled up, he still felt like he had a lot of anger to let out and he wanted to go back there and finish his talk. He wanted everyone to listen, but inside those four walls that composed his locker room, there was no one who could hear him roar.

While he angrily threw all his belongings inside his open bag and without bothering to change into street clothes, Punk heard the door to his locker room being slammed hard against its frame and by instinct he turned around, settling his feet firm on the floor and getting mentally ready to fight whoever had the nerve to walk into his territory.

But as soon as his simmering olive green orbs caught the sight of the new comer, he relaxed his stance and rolled his eyes. "What the fuck do you want?"

The tall man in front of him lifted a hand to his face and ran his fingers through his clean shaven jaw. "Wow, Punk. That thing you said out there was really deep… I mean yeah I was kind of dazed and almost out of it, but did you just said that you like me a hell of a lot more than you like most of the guys back there?"

Tilting his head to the side, Punk pursed his lips and clenched his jaw. He was in no mood for this but why the fuck no? What else did he have to lose anyway? He already pissed off the big boss so why not take out his remaining anger against this one. "Yeah I said that, it was right before I called you out for kissing Vince McMahon's ass into making you his favorite golden boy and way before I said that I am better than you in everything I do."

Nodding, John Cena lifted both eyebrows and with his hand still on his jaw he smiled. "I see… and forgive my wondering mind but I honestly thought that you hated everyone in the back equally so I'm kind surprised about this… ah, why not, I'm even kind of flattered. You had your chance of tearing me a new one and even when you took a shoot at me, you said that you liked me. So," He said, clapping his hands together and resting his back against the closed door. "Since you seem to dislike The Rock more than you dislike me, does that mean you'll be sponsoring me at WrestleMania?"

"Don't go over yourself, Cena, the fact that I hate ninety percent of that locker room more than I dislike you doesn't mean that you are my favorite person ever. Quite the contrary, I don't like you and your 'Oh I'm so happy' demeanor and your stupid sense of humor makes me want to puke. I hate you and everything you represent and come July 17 I'll be more than happy to walk out of here never to see you again. Oh, and let's not forget to mention the fact that in that day I'll be walking out as the new WWE champion so you better start kissing that belt goodbye, Cena."

Smiling his dimply smile, John threw his hands up in the air. "Okay, okay, now I'm lost, first you like me and now you hate me. Make up your mind, Punk, because you are confusing me."

"I don't like you!" Punk snapped, feeling a new sense of anger rising up to new and dangerous levels. "Is that clear enough for your simpleton mind?"

"Sure, fine… let's leave it at that for now. The question here is, how are you planning to win my WWE championship when you probably won't even fight for it, I mean let me remind you that you are suspended and who knows, Vince may make that suspension last until July 18."

"He can't do that." Punk replied… when he was told that he was suspended he just assumed that it was going to be for the next Monday night Raw and it never crossed his mind that he could be suspended until his contract expired. "I earned my shoot at Money In The Bank and Cena, trust me on this one, I will compete and I'm going to win."

John smiled, his clear blue eyes sparkling as they looked straight into Punk's own eyes. "You earned it, but you threw everything away when you went out there running your mouth. You are not untouchable, Punk, and tonight Vince proved that to you."

"Oh yeah," The Chicago native said after letting out an un-amused chuckle. "I forgot that you are the untouchable one, you are Vince's number one ass kisser and why not, you probably are his favorite cock sucker as well. Why don't…"

Before Punk could finish talking, John took three big steps inside the room and once face to face with the younger man, he looked down to him and shook his head. The easy smile he has been sporting since he closed the door to the world was long gone and it its place was a serious pout. "I'm not anyone's cock sucker or ass kisser, everything I have in this company is because I busted my ass off to achieve it. I breathe and live WWE, I'm the first to arrive, the last to leave and I won't allow you or anyone else to say otherwise."

Looking straight into John's blues, the corners of Punk's lips twisted into a wicked grin. "Yeah, I heard you busted your ass off alright, in Vince office and down on your knees."

Before Punk could take satisfaction on the way Cena's eyes darkened in anger, the other man grabbed him by the edge of his shirt and slammed him hard against the wall. It took him by surprise and he gasped, but before he could say or do something about it he found himself trapped between the concrete and John's hard body. "Get your hands off of me." He hissed, his tone getting low and dark.

He didn't appreciate being pushed around and if John didn't let go of him, he was going to find out.

"Take that back, now." The older man growled, his grip on Punk getting tighter and stronger.

"Or else what, will you go running crying to Vince? You can't touch me now, Cena. Taken the fact that I'm indefinitely suspended, if you do as much as put a finger on me it will be assault and I'll make sure to provide you with at least one night behind bars. Maybe you'll enjoy it, there are a lot of Vinces in there waiting to see you bust your ass for them."

As soon as his words were out, John flashed Punk a smile. It was in that moment when the tattooed man realized that the champ was too damn close… so close that he could feel the heat his naked torso irradiated in huge waves trespassing the Stone Cold shirt he was wearing and slipping through his pores. "Keep saying that, and I'll be the one busting your ass."

Punk blinked, tilting his head and flashing a smile of his own. "You wish, Cena, but that's not going to happen. Besides, what would all the kids around the world think if they listen to the great John Cena talking like that? That's definitely not the PG you managed to push down everyone's throat."

"You know what, Punk? Let me give you a news flash. Tonight you sat there whining and complaining about Vince and the WWE Universe not appreciating the grandeur you claim to have in you… I mean yeah, I have to admit that you are damn good at what you do, but do you even realize that you've been giving more than what's been given to a big part of that locker room you claim to hate so much? In six years you've been the champ how many times, three? That's more than what a guy like Christian has, he's been in this business for seventeen years and he's been WWE champ just one time and just for a couple of days. You sat there crying for no reason because let's face it, you are in every Raw taping, you main even and yes you put out great matches, but do you even realize that guys like Zack Ryder rarely make it to Raw? Or are you aware that we have great underutilized talent as Evan Bourne jobbing to everyone or that we just lost Chavo?" He chuckled, pushing the inside of his cheek with his tongue before keeping on with his talk. "Of course, the only man who's ever won two consecutive money in the bank matches in one year doesn't take notice of that because he's too busy complaining about his spot in the company."

"I can't fight everyone's fight but my own and that's what I'm doing. Or what, do you think you are the big shit just because you occasionally whisper in Vince ears to let one of those guys share your spotlight, or is it that you feel better than anyone because…"

Cutting him off, the Champ closed the distance that separated both their faces and before Punk could react to it he covered his lips firmly with his. It was a rudimentary kiss full of repressed ire that lasted only a couple of seconds; he didn't even have time to register in his brain what just happened. Did John Cena kiss him?

It sure felt like it, and even though the contact was brief and rough, Punk had enough time to drink on the warmness of John Cena's lips claiming his own. It was a pleasant surprise that didn't last enough…

Once it was done, John finally let go of him and stepped back, his eyes refusing to leave the greens of Punks as his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "I want to fight you at Money In The Bank and I'll make sure it happens." With that said, John eyed Punk over and as soon as he came in he was out, leaving nothing but the phantom of his lips covering Punk's.

Yeah… he wanted to fight Cena… he wasn't going to go out in peace if that didn't happen…

TBC?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Wow, thanks so much for the great reviews, I really appreciate them ;) Now, I'm trying to go with the flow of the storyline and with the reports I read of them from Australia, it's not much so let's hope that we get to see more of Cena/Punk on Raw.

**ChApTeR 2**

As much as he would hate to admit it out loud, CM Punk couldn't deny that deep inside he kind of liked traveling overseas for WWE live events. Sure, sitting through a fourteen hours flight to make it to the other side of the world will always put him in a crabby mood, but once that was done it was basically time to relax.

Overseas there was no going through the pain that was renting a car and driving around, there was no preoccupation of booking a hotel room beforehand that was near a gym and most importantly, all the expenses were covered by stupid McMahon or the bookers.

Not that money was a problem to him, if there was something he has made sure of was that he would be financially stable when the time came for him to hang his wrestling boots. But still… it was nice not to pay a penny to stay in a fine hotel and if he took aside the part where he had to wrestle every night, he could just imagine that he was taking some sort of paid-forced vacations.

Lonely vacations but vacations nonetheless.

He kind of liked that because time to sit down and think was scarce and he had a lot of thinking to do.

That night, the last night of the tour, the Chicago native sat criss crossed at the border of the pool; his eyes lost in the distance as he randomly thought that he just wrestled his last event outside the States.

The thought of it was kind or romantic in a weird kind of way and as another realization hit his mind with the speed of a bullet, Punk sighed out loud and tilted his head to the side.

Yeah, whether he liked it or not, as soon as the eighteen came upon him he was going to miss it all, no doubt about it. After all wrestling was what his life was all about and even though his mind and body needed a rest, he was just going to miss it and it was going to take him a while to get used to staying away.

And what was he going to do with so much time off? He was already used to living through a hectic schedule and idleness would not suit him at all.

Thinking about that, the tattooed man's ears detected a movement coming from behind and getting in full defensive mode he uncrossed his legs and turned around, ready to get up to his feet so whoever was in the pool area at three o'clock in the morning wouldn't get him off guard.

"Relax man, it's not like I'm going to throw you into the pool and hold your head underwater, tsk."

Snarling his lips, the olive green orbs that were Punk's eyes focused on the figure of no other than John Cena walking his way and holding in his hand two cans of diet Pepsi. As he came nearer, Punk also noticed that the man was flashing his customary dimpled smile and once he was near enough he sat down besides the younger of the two.

With no other word, the WWE Champion put a Diet Pepsi on Punk's lap and then he began to take off his sneakers so he could insert his feet into the water. He did that as it was the most natural thing in the world and Punk just looked at him, his lips forming a thin line in his face as he scanned him over.

"You're welcome." John said absentmindedly as he opened his soda to take a sip.

At his words, Punk looked down at the Diet Pepsi and snorted. "First of, I didn't ask you to stalk me and bring me this and two, you owed me one so don't you expect me to thank you for this, John." After saying that, he took the icy cold can in one hand and went back to sitting the same way he was sitting before Cena came to interrupt his peace.

"So you still have a grudge against that, don't you? But anyway, I am not stalking you and no, I'm not talking about the Diet Pepsi incident either; what I'm talking about here is me getting you back into the Money In The Bank title match. I don't know if you know this but I basically put my job on the line for that to happen."

"Yeah?" Punk asked just for the hell of it because he did watch the back and forth between the boss and the champ in the last episode of Monday night Raw and yeah, he noticed that not only did John convinced Vince to reinstate him back into the WWE but he also put him back into the title match. So of course he knew, he wouldn't be touring with the Raw brand if he didn't know that.

"Yup. It took me a while but I did it; sure, the part where I will be fired if I lose wasn't what I was planning for but it's not like I haven't been fire before."

Arching an eyebrow, CM Punk tilted his head to the side and looked at the man sitting at his side for a long while, green eyes staring at the blue of John's as a full moon watched them from above. "Fired, uh? Well let me tell you this, if you got Vince to agree just so you could be fired then you are a bigger dumbass than I thought. Because John… I'm going to beat you at Money In The Bank and I'm going to walk away through the big door as the new and last WWE Champion while you are just going to walk away through the back door."

Chuckling, John's eyes sparkled and he shook his head. "And I'm not even getting a 'thanks John' for all my efforts." With that said, the older man took another sip of his soda and smiled.

Did he really always have to smile? CM Punk hated that; he knew that John simply couldn't be happy all the time and in his mind that he acted that way only made him a fake.

Shifting his position, the Straight Edge superstar straightened his back and then blew out a breath. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the only human being that seemed to be awake at that ridiculous hour and weird as it sounded, sitting there with John Cena was awkward… especially after their last encounter.

"Did you know that sitting Indian Style is bad for your back? Gosh I always wanted to tell you that!" John said a little too enthusiastic and Punk leered at him.

"Did you know that a) you can't call it indian style anymore and b) it's not your damn problem how I sit?"

At those words, Cena chuckled, running his hand down his face and tilting his head towards him. "You know, changing the subject drastically before I forget; I was talking to Evan Bourne earlier today and he told me that you were irreplaceable. I don't know how we ended up talking about you leaving the company but for some reason I couldn't stop thinking about that." He said that and getting more serious, he blinked his eyes slowly. "Maybe it was because he's right, you are one of the best if not the best wrestler we have and even thought we don't always look eye to eye I wouldn't like to see you leave."

"What? Are you saying that you'll miss me, is that it Cena?" Punk said and just when his words were out he realized that his tone has been too lighthearted and almost teasing. Thing that was not acceptable.

No, this was Cena… and as much as his eyes would delve into his or as much as his closeness was making him feel too self-conscious, he couldn't forget who this man was and all that he represented.

"Nooooo, not at all." He laughed out loud and then continued. "Your attitude is worse than my wrestling so no… I'm not going to miss you one bit."

"Wow John, if my attitude is worse that your in-ring skill then I am really awful."

Snorting, Cena lowered his head without taking his eyes away from Punk's and then brushed his shoulder to the number one contender to his championship. "Yeah yeah let's cut it right there, okay? It's really not that funny when I'm not the one making fun of myself."

Shaking his head away from the intensity of John's eyes, Punk quirked his lips and looked up to the night sky. He could still feel John's shoulder touching his own and he wondered if the other man was getting nearer or what?

Yes he was, so as a tactic for the man not to get too near Punk did what he did best, he opened his mouth and talked trash. "Doesn't matter, apparently you don't need to be a good wrestler to be the Champion and besides, I'm pretty sure you can convince Vince to reinstate you once he fires you. Rumor has it that down on your knees you are pretty convincing."

"Uff." Cena mumbled under his breath and just like that he wasn't touching Punk anymore. "Are we back at that again? How many times do I have to repeat that I've never…"

Moved by an inner force hard to comprehend, Punk tilted his head to the side and cutting the other man off he pressed his lips to him. It was an improvisation, he hadn't been planning on doing that but he'll be damned if he had to sit there and listen to John Cena saying that he has earned everything he has accomplished through dedication and hard work.

Sure, he had to admit that the man has heart and dedication, but in his book those two attributes were overshadowed by his annoying way of carrying himself, by his stupid haircut and his horrendous sense of style.

So yeah, he wanted to shut him off and shut him off he did. But then, once his mission was accomplished and he was going to pull back, the older man prevented him from tearing his lips away by curling a hand to the back of his neck, keeping him near and very much glued to him.

So far this contact of lips to lips was way more prolonged than their previous one and more than that, it apparently wanted to go even further by having John part his lips and brush his tongue to Punk's lips. By instinct, the Chicago native tilted his head to the side and taking advantage of the gap provided, he pushed his own tongue inside the sweet cave that was Cena's mouth.

It was quick, he just swirled his tongue against John's and then retreated, taking with him the memory of the other man's warmness and willingness before finally breaking off the contact by pulling away.

John let him go without protest and smiled, his eyes shining and his dimples in full display. "Well, that's a good way to thank me as any other."

Snorting, Punk got to his feet, grabbed his Diet Pepsi and looked down at John. "Don't get used to it, the next thing you are going to kiss is your belt and it's going to be a goodbye kiss."

Running his tongue across his lips, John looked up at him. "Are you sure about that?"

"Positive."

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you. We are less than two weeks away from the seventeen and a lot of things can happen."

Smirking, Punk shook his head. He knew Cena wasn't talking about the match or the belt and despite himself he kind of liked that the champ was so sure of himself. He liked confidence, but he didn't like doing what was expected of him and it seemed that John was expecting him to fall in a heap to his feet just because they kissed.

If that was what the bigger man expected then he would have to sit down and wait because Punk wasn't going to give in… at least not the way John probably wanted. Ah, but who knew, maybe taking away his championship wasn't the only thing he could get out of Cena…

True, the current champ represented everything Punk hated in the business but like he said before, he didn't hate the man as a person; he did annoy him from time to time and there were certain attributes to him that he despised but he didn't dislike him as a whole.

So yeah, who knew? After all the man was John Cena and who wouldn't like a one on one with the man?

But not that night… if ever; so with that in mind and turning around, CM Punk sucked into his mouth his lip ring and with a devious smile taking over his face he started to walk away and think…

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I wrote this in a rush and didn't double check it, but because I won't be anywhere near a computer until next week I decided to post it now that I can (before MITB). Hope you like it and at last but not least, thanks so much for the reviews, they really mean a lot.

**BoRn Of AnGeR: Chapter 3**

CM Punk was angry. Actually, it was even more than that; he was fuming and as he walked as fast as he could through the backstage corridors of the arena where the WWE was performing that night he could feel his fury soaring to its maximum and slowly consuming him inside out.

It was really bad, bad to a point where the anger in him was so strong that it was making his blood boil, burning him all over as it ran through his veins and all over his body.

Flushed, chest heaving with the force of his breathing and with his hands closed angrily into fists, the Straight Edge Superstar snarled his lips while he kept walking. His goal of the moment was to exit the arena and leave it all behind, because if he didn't he was probably going to do something he would regret later on and he didn't want to hurt his chances of making in until Sunday so he could do things his way.

No, come Sunday he needed to still be around because he definitely was going to leave with the WWE championship around his waist, and if he got suspended again then he couldn't do that.

But… if there was something in him he could barely control it was his temper and right in that moment his acrid mood was so pungent that instead of air his lungs were filled with venom. Add to that the toxic fumes that emanated from his pores and voila, his judgment was compromised and he was doomed to err.

It was Cena's fault, the man really got under his skin that night because really, what business did he have of interrupting his contract negotiation with Vince McMahon or worse, what business did he have in punching him right in the face when he has done nothing but speak the truth?

Halting on his tracks, the Chicago native tilted his head to the side and blinked his olive green eyes slowly. John Cena… John fucking Cena…. When the thought of leaving the company as the champion took over his mind never to leave him alone, the so called champ was the last thing he cared for; in his game plan he was only the holder of the one thing he wanted the most so to him he was just someone he needed to defeat to get to it.

And like he had said before, he didn't personally dislike John, but John was in his way and he needed to go through him to get what he wanted; he was a mere obstacle, nothing more.

But then everything started to run its course and things between him and the blue eyed champion started to get a bit more personal and now the fact that _he_ punched him in the face really pissed him off. John Cena finally pissed him off…

With the name of the man permeated in his brain and with the memory of the altercation he just had with him in the ring, CM Punk turned around and with the same resolution he had in exiting the arena, he walked back the same way he came in; this time his goal finding Cena.

For better or for worse he was going to find him and he was going to discharge his ire on him.

With that thought in mind, it didn't take him long to get where he wanted. The Massachusetts' own had a very accessible personal locker room and Punk had no problem in finding it or in kicking the door open so he could walk inside.

Like he has been hoping, John Cena was there alright and as soon as he busted into the room the older man got to his feet and tensed his jaw, his eyes set on his as his face became a stoic mask that wasn't giving anything away.

All that Punk noticed as an afterthought, because as soon as his eyes fell on the man he advanced towards him with the swift movements of a wild cat and before John could even blink a second time, he was pushing him against the concrete wall as hard as he could.

"Let me tell you something, John-" Punk hissed through clenched teeth as he placed his forearm to the other man's throat. "If you ever again in your life decide to interrupt me while I'm in that ring…"

"No, no, no Punk, let _me_ tell _you_ something. I don't care what kind of grudge you have over Vince, this company and the entire world, but next time you go out there to make a mockery out that belt and this business you say to love so much, I'm going to make you swallow your damn teeth."

Pressing his arm hardest against John's throat, Punk got an inch closer and without tearing his eyes away from the blue ones staring back at him he puffed out a breath. "I'm making a mockery out of it? Please John, everybody with a brain knows that belt is a mockery since the first time you lay your hands on it. And you say I make a mockery out of the business? Me that have sweat and bleed for it while getting nothing but scraps in return?"

"I have bleed and sweat for it as much as anyone so don't try to pull that one on me. Everything I have I have given it to this business, I put my body in the line every single night and…"

"Well so have I, John, so have I! But the difference between you and me is that I don't get down on my knees to succeed or to get what I want. I work for it by wrestling my ass off, John… as a matter of fact I can outwrestle everyone in that locker room but look where that got me; nowhere, because apparently the amount of success a guy can get in this company is by the amount of cock you can fit in your mouth."

"Yeah that's getting old you know so I won't even bother in getting pissed. But let me get this off my chest now that we are at it. You've been running your mouth about being the poor underdog that gets nothing in return for all the efforts you put in this company; you complain that you are underappreciated, you bitch and whine over not getting your own collectors cup or your own leading role in a movie and all that stupid crap that nothing have to do with wrestling skills."

"But look at what happened in that ring tonight, you went out there demanding the most ridiculous things you could ever imagine; private jets, ice-cream bars and whatever you said you wanted and surprise surprise, Vince said… yes. I'm not even going to point out that you didn't have to suck his cock for him to agree because that's irrelevant, but while I watched in the back I came to realize that you were not going to sign. Even if Vince agreed to everything you were just not going to sign. You went out there just so you could play your wicked mind games."

Snorting, Punk ran his tongue over his lip ring and arched an eyebrow. "What makes you think that? What if I was going to sign but because you came and interrupted me I got pissed off and changed my mind?"

"That's bullshit and you know it."

"No John, the only thing that's full of bullshit is you."

At those words, Cena used his hands and pressing them against Punk's chest, he pushed him away from him. His next movement was one the younger man wasn't expecting and when he felt The Champ's fist connecting to his face once again he started seeing red… this time for real.

Without giving the other man time to defend himself, the Chicago native jumped on him, sending John and all his two hundred and forty pounds to the ground with him on top. That's how they started to brawl. They punched, they rolled all over the floor and even at a certain point they even knocked down a few of the stuff that once upon a time stood tall in the room.

They went at it for a while, but when John got the upper hand and had Punk laying flat on the floor while his hands settled firmly around his neck so he couldn't get up the floor, the older of the two wrinkled his nose and through ragged short breaths he spoke. "I don't want to fight you like this."

Grunting, CM Punk tried to sneak out of the hold John had on him but his effort was futile and the pressure put on him whenever he tried to move was restricting his air passage; meaning that every time he moved he choked.

That right there only added to his anger and he could feel his face burning with the force of it. Sure, it might be that John didn't want to fight but he did, he wanted to beat him out of his senses and he wanted to do it very bad.

He didn't want to wait until Sunday, he wanted to do it right there, right now.

"Listen-" John said and putting all his efforts into it, Punk tried to push him off of him. On his part, John retaliated by adding more pressure and by pressing his lips hard to his.

That was another movement that got Punk by surprise and he didn't like it; he didn't like that of all people, John Cena was really getting the best of him.

Sliding his hands to John's shoulders, Punk tried once again to push him off, but as he wasted his time in trying to do that, John caught him off guard for a fourth time that night and tugged at his lips with his teeth. Soon after that his tongue sneaked into his mouth and just like that he was kissing him.

The feeling was not unpleasant, Punk couldn't lie about it. Quite the contrary, the way John's tongue melted against his while resting the full length of his body against him was rather nice and despite himself he ended up kissing him back.

Tongues fusing together, breaths mingling as one and bodies pushing insistently against one another, the night caught the current champion and his number one contender giving into the moment like never before; but because Punk's mind ran faster than his libido he was the first one to go back to his senses and taking over the opportunity that John's hold on him eased off, he pushed him off of him with all the force he could muster.

That way and quickly getting up to his feet, the raven haired wrestler wiped at his mouth and with a glare that could be easily taken as one full of hate but that was actually one full of confusion, he walked past a red faced John Cena and walked out…

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thanks for all the nice reviews. Now, I tried to keep this on a weekly basis but somehow I fell behind (kind of busy lately). Anyway, this chapter is divided on two and it happens right after the Money In The Bank PPV. Hope you enjoy :) P.S. I hope to post the second part soon.

**ChApTeR 4**

"Well, well, well… look who we have here, John Felix Anthony Cena-"

Letting his words linger in the air for a while and lifting a hand up so he could run his fingers along his jaw, the tattooed man known in the wrestling world as CM Punk curved his lips into a smirk as he used his free hand to adjust his newly acquired WWE Championship over his shoulder.

As Punk has been expecting, what he said made the man sitting in front of him to tilt his head a bit to the side so he could take a look back. It was only for a brief moment though, because as soon the blue eyes of the former WWE champion took a glimpse of the man who was standing behind him, he quickly turned his face away once again and went back to what he was doing previously.

"Awww, I hope you are not bitter over tonight. I mean I told you this was going to happen, didn't I?"

John shrugged, even with his back turned, Punk noticed this and he had to bit hard on his lips not to laugh out loud. After all he was enjoying the moment way too much and in his adrenaline high he wanted to breathe in his moment to the fullest.

"What the fuck do you want now?" John mumbled, his voice carrying the dark undertones of the defeated.

"Me? What makes you think I want something? I was just walking around town… you do know this is my town right? Anyway, me and my championship were taking a walk out on this lovely night and somehow word got to my ear than none other than John Cena was here at a bar drinking his sorrows away. I just had to stop by and see for myself."

Now was this true? To a certain point yes. Like he said to John, he has been indeed around town with a few of his closest friends celebrating his victory and the end of his days in the WWE when he heard it, John Cena was still in town and apparently drinking his weight in alcohol in a local bar.

At first he laughed about it and even threw out a comment about how annoying could a drunk John Cena be. But then his mind started to constantly rotate around the other man and as much as he tried to ignore the thoughts, he ended up ending his celebration early so he could sneak into the bar he knew John to be.

He wasn't sure yet why he did that, the only thing he knew was that he was being pathetic and the fact that he was in that precise moment stalking the other man made him sick to his stomach. Could he do something about it? Not really, because whether he liked it or not, John Cena was making him lose all traces of self-control off his system.

Sure, the tattooed superstar was the first to admit that allowing the older man to get so deep into him was beyond ridiculous, especially when at first it has been so easy to put his mind elsewhere. But, he was also aware that at the beginning things weren't as complicated as they were now because one, a tiny little kiss was easy to forget and two, because he had a lot of things going on in his life to focus in such an irrelevant little thing as a smooch.

So yes, things until then were under control...

Then came their second encounter. That one went a bit further than a little insignificant kiss but much as the first it didn't mean anything to him. Yes it felt nice and all that but even as it happened he was very clear that this was John Cena and back then he knew he couldn't allow his mind to dwell in the memory of what was going on.

Things until then were okay, a little awkward feeling but okay… and most importantly, still under control.

But then they kissed for a third time and that's when his mind started to feel compromised. That last time when he and John kissed, things got a bit out of hand because for a moment he forgot about everything but the feeling of John kissing him and how it felt to have the full weight of him crashing hard into his and how his own body reacted to it all.

That moment right there has been intense, weird and fucked up and for long days that has been the only thought he could focus on. Punk didn't like that at all and the anger it provoke in him was the force that made his motors run until he eventually faced and then won over John at the Money In The Bank.

Now he was there…

"Cut the crap. Did you come here to make fun of me and to rub it in my face?" John mumbled and this time he turned his body around so he could face Punk eye to eye.

Flashing what he hoped to be the smuggest grin his face could hold, the new Champion tilted his head to the side and then, ever so slowly, he ran his tongue over his lip ring. "Not at all, John… not at all."

"Then what do you want?" John repeated once again, his words coming off as forced.

"Are you drunk, John?" Clicking his tongue to his cheek, Punk shook his head. "Unemployed, drunk, annoying… you only get from bad to worse. What a shame."

John tensed his jaw and pursed his lips. "Are you done? Good, now fuck off." After saying that, the older man tried to turn around; but before he could do such a thing, Punk grabbed his upper arm and gave a little pull that made the bigger man stumble upon him.

Punk grabbed him, preventing the other man to fall face first to the floor.

"How many of those have you downed tonight?" Punk asked, referring to the glass shoots he saw John consume as he walked into that bar.

Putting his hands against Punk's chest as a level to straighten up, John shrugged once again. One, five, a dozen, why the fuck do you care?"

"I don't care, trust me; how you poison your body is none of my concern. I just want to know because I need to know the level of clarity you still have in you so I know how to interact with you."

"I'm very clear." John said, his lips pursing and his dimples in full display.

Punk watched him through half closed eyes, taking notice not for the first time since he got there that John wasn't wearing one of his too bright t-shirts and his customary jeans short, no… instead of that he was wearing a white button shirt and dark long jeans… a look that suited him much better as he didn't look like a gigantic five year old at pre-school. So there was that and it also helped that he wasn't wearing a cap and that his hair has grown a bit from that hideous haircut he seemed to always get.

"You don't look too clear; as a matter of fact you look drunk out of your mind. Not that I blame you, it must be hard for your simple mind to come up with a plan… I mean I'm sure you didn't really expect to be out of a job tonight and besides drinking I bet you don't know what to do now. Hard isn't it, but that's what you get for underestimate me."

"No, no, no… that's where you are wrong, Phil; I will get my job back before you can even change my name out of this title." John slurred, touching CM Punk's championship and grinning. "I am John Cena, I'm the face of the WWE and Vince won't risk losing me just like that. I'll be reinstated while you sit in your living room watching me wrestle."

Snorting, Punk shook his head. Sure, he knew that what John said was probably right because as much as he hated it he knew that the older man was going to get his job back as fast as he did last time. But until then… "If I were you I wouldn't be so sure. You lost the title to me and since I'm not coming back I don't think Vince is too happy. But luckily for you, I will offer you a nice little job right here, right now and what's best, nothing you haven't done before."

"Ha," John laughed un-amusingly, but not even for a second did he tear his eyes away from Punk's nor his hands away from his chest.

"Don't laugh, it's pretty easy and well paid. I don't know, with the money you can even buy some nice clothing for job hunting." Punk said, lifting a hand and grabbing a button from John's shirt between his thumb and forefinger and giving it a little thug.

John arched an eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. "What if I'm not interested?"

"Oh trust me, you are going to be interested whether you like it or not. Come on, let's get out of here…"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews on last chapter, I can't say enough how good they are to me and how much they motivate me to keep this story going. With that said, now on to the turning point part of this story ;O

**ChApTeR 5**

For someone who in several times repeated out loud that he wasn't interested in going anywhere outside the bar with the new WWE Champion, John easily allowed Punk to guide him out into the cold streets of Chicago with nothing more than a few weak protests flowing out of the tip of his tongue.

It was as if the message that he wasn't going to follow Punk didn't go from his brain to his feet and being out of the loop, his legs moved after the younger man without reflecting the reluctance his voice was showing.

At that Punk couldn't help but to smirk, he liked a John Cena with no resolution and thus the corner of his lips curved maliciously as the much bigger man drunkenly walked one step ahead of him.

"Where are you taking me?" John asked all of a sudden in a low murmur, halting in his tracks and turning a bit so that his blue eyes could find the green orbs of the man that just hours prior defeated him in what could be the most important match of his career.

Punk shrugged, "I'm taking you to a very special place, John. But if you don't keep moving we might never get there."

Squinting his eyes, the former Champion pursed his lips and shook his head. "What if I say I don't want to go?"

"I won't care," Punk said, advancing one step closer towards the other man and taking special notice that John didn't back away from him. No, instead of backing away John just fixed his eyes on Punk's and quirked his lips. "And you know why I won't care? Because I'm pretty sure you want to go anywhere I could take you. Besides, I'm making you a big favor here so you need to shut up and just do what I tell you to do."

After saying that and before John could mutter another protest, Punk took another step forward, a step that made him invade the other man's personal space in such a way that he got dangerously close to his face without touching him.

"So why don't you save your breath and keep going?" He whispered, his voice barely above a raspy whisper as his nose was invaded with the scent of the other man's cologne.

That was how much close they were standing to one another, close enough so that they could breathe into each other but not quite enough so their lips could touch.

At his words, John's blue sparkling eyes lowered themselves until they came to rest on Punk's lips; they remained there for a few second before going up to his eyes again. Punk liked that, because with that look he knew that no matter what John could say, it was obvious that he was going follow him anywhere he could take him.

So, with that in mind and chewing hard on his fruity bubble gum, the tattooed man arched an eyebrow and rested his hand to John's lower back, urging him to keep walking so he could be done with him once and for all.

Now… what he had in mind to do with John was something that wasn't in his character to do. But it was just that the man had gotten under his skin in ways he could never imagined possible and he had to get him out of his system one way or the other…

If he didn't act that night the opportunity was going to slip out of reach because now they were no longer employed by the WWE, the chance of them meeting randomly down the road was very slim if not nonexistent.

Besides, that night John defenses where down and his recent victory over the same man was making him feel almost delirious. So well… the situation was beyond convenient and he was going to make the best out of it.

So thinking that way, Punk guided the former champion into a dark clandestine alley where he knew they wouldn't be disturbed; then once far from any trace of people he grabbed John by the wrist and made him turn around.

"Now, about that job I…"

John's reaction was immediate, as soon as Punk swirled him around he took one step to him and attacked his mouth, his tongue plunging right past his lips while pushing him hard into a wall.

Punk wasn't slow to react neither, and as soon as the strong taste of hard liquor John had in him touched his tongue, he pushed the other man away from his lips without allowing his body to part ways with his.

"Who said that you could kiss me?" He breathed out, his hands taking hold of John's shirt as he looked straight into the blue eyes starting back at him.

"You said." John mumbled, leaning forward so the full warmness of his lips could connect to a very sensitive spot underneath Punk's jaw. "You said it to me tonight while we were in the ring, you didn't use words but you said it."

Snorting at the silliness of those words, Punk slid his hands to John's chest and held him close. Sure, letting John take control of the situation wasn't _exactly_ what he had in mind when he took him to that place, but even though things were not going exactly the way he pictured them, he had to admit that what John was doing with his lips felt very nice and he wanted to prolong the moment a while longer.

Just a bit…

"I'm pretty sure I didn't say or implied such a thing so you probably imagined it; after all we all know that minds can play tricks on those who are not strong enough to control themselves and John, in that ring you could barely control yourself."

Licking slowly his lips, Punk's mind went briefly back to the events that took place that night in the ring. The memory made him smile slyly and he even chuckled.

"If I would have shown the same professionalism you were showing me, I would have fucked you right in the middle of that ring."

"In your dreams, Punk." Cena said hoarsely but even though his lips remained on him, his teeth grazing at the tender flesh of his throat as his lips traced a path down to his shoulder.

"Maybe in yours. But don't worry; I know this has been a tough night for you so I'm going to treat you with a little something…" After saying that, Punk took hold of one of John's hands and dragged right to the indiscrete bulge forming in his pants.

Upon contact, John tried to move his hand away, but Punk's grip was stronger.

"No, no, no… not so fast, John. I have a little job for you and I want you to do it."

"I don't want to." The older man responded and straightened up, tearing his lips away from Punk's neck and looking at him straight in the eye.

"You don't?" The current champion asked amusedly while his free hand went to John's groin, taking hold of the other man's own erection and giving it a few strokes through the rough fabric of his jeans. "Then what's this?"

Cena groaned brokenly as Punk touched him so intimately and that was all the courage the Straight Edge Superstar needed.

He has known that touching John was going to work like magic and he smiled in satisfaction, especially when John's hand started to move on its own accord against his own trapped hardness.

"You like that, don't you?" Punk hissed and in his impaired mind John mumbled a yes. The Chicago Native took that opportunity and with the expert fingers of his hand, he started to take off John's belt, fumbling with it until it was out of the way.

Once the belt was tossed into the dirty street of the alley, Punk started to work with the button and then the zipper of the other man's pants. "Then why don't you take this off… and turn around for me?"

At the words Punk just said, John's hand dropped to his side and moving his face in a way that he could look at Punk straight in the eye he shook his head no. "Not that."

Punk nodded, his lips curving into a smirk and his eyes shining. "Yes, that. So come on."

"I'm not that drunk and I… just…"

Not minding his words, Punk quirked his lips and he himself slid John's pants down his legs, and then as if it was the most natural thing in the word he lowered the boxers down to his thighs, exposing the older man in ways he has never done before.

Lowering his eyes, Punk drank on the sight he had right in front of him, licking his lips because despite everything his mind could say, the truth was the John was truly a sight to be seen and in that moment he wasn't disappointing. He just looked perfect, standing there looking mortified while his flushed erection stood proudly against his hard stomach.

Pursing his lips and making his dimples make an apparition; John grabbed his boxers and pulled them up.

"That's a little tight right there, isn't it?" Punk said and his hand went back to stroking him, working little by little until John's underwear were once again out of the way so that he could touch him flesh to flesh.

Hissing and his hips shooting forward, John pressed his forehead to Punk's and closed his eyes; his breathing coming out in short puffs as Punk continued to apply his ministrations; his hand sliding from the base of John's cock to the very crown before going back down to repeat the same motion.

"If they could all see you now, John… what would they say? The great John Cena… about to get fucked by me."

"Fuck you, Punk…" John mumbled and Punk let go of him, his hand tingling and missing the hot feeling of John's cock filling his hand.

"Really? If I were you I would change that for a fuck me, Punk." Snorting and taking the opportunity that his hand was now free, Punk unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and freed his own erection from its bondage, holding to it as he gave himself a few firm strokes before letting it sprung completely free. "Now come on, you know what to do."

Taking in a deep breath, John looked down between their bodies and his hand moved back to Punk's erection; and very much like the younger man did with him, he worked his clumsy fingers on stroking him.

Punk let him do that, saying nothing and watching through darkening eyes as John started to go down in a crouching position until his face was right in front of his own hard-on.

Then, without wasting anytime he grabbed for the hard member and pushed it pass his lips.

Feeling the warm wet cave of John's mouth closing around his cock made Punk suck in a breath and he closed his eyes for a second, his hand coming to rest over John's head as the world started to spin around in his head.

"You were dying to do that, uh? You are such a little slut."

Not minding Punk's words, John dragged his tongue around the rim at the head of his cock and then he made a slow humming sound that traveled all the way from the Chicago Native's balls, going up his length and then vibrating through all his being.

"Fuck yes, that's so good."

Perhaps encouraged by those words, John used the tip of his tongue to lick the slit located at the crown of Punk's hard manhood and then he sucked into his mouth the head, using his hand to stroke everything his mouth was not treating.

To that Punk moaned, blinking his eyes open so he could take a look around. There was no one around that he could see so his eyes moved and fell back on the sigh of John Cena giving him one hell of a blow job.

Like he said before, if people could see their beloved John Cena in that moment…

"Take it all in." He commanded in a raspy whisper and John complied, taking him almost all the way to the base before quickly retreating. "Shit… do that again." He said, pushing his head down with one hand, wanting nothing more than to push his dick all the way to the back of the man's throat.

"You are going to make me fucking gag." Cena said pushing away and then raining a series of kisses down Punk's length. He went as low as he could, and when he ran out of cock he moved his lips to his balls, sucking them into his mouth as his hand started to jerk him off.

"Fuck John…" Punk breathed out. If the rumors were true and this was how the man rose to top, then there was no wonder why he was where he was and no one has been able to knock him off his place for long.

So yes he was good… or maybe it was that a long time has passed since the last time someone did something like this to him and thus he was extra sensitive… but either way, John definitely knew what he was doing and Punk couldn't get enough of it.

Closing his eyes and throwing his head back against the wall, Punk began to feel his blood roaring in his ears and he knew he was close, he could almost taste his release coming and he wanted to keep it away. "I want to fuck you…" he panted, "I want to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk for days."

As soon as his words were out, John slid his lips back up and in a swift movement he took him all into his mouth, his tongue working in slow circles around the sensitive spot around his cock's head until Punk couldn't help it and holding hard onto John's neck so he couldn't back away from what was coming, he exploded down Cena's throat.

The sensation was divine and he moaned huskily, his hips shooting forward as his throbbing cock spilled the warm essence of his seed inside John's mouth.

And John… even though he was holding him so he couldn't escape him, Punk couldn't help but to notice that John took it like a pro; swallowing down all he had to give and then sucking him dry until the once impossible hard on started to soften in his mouth.

Once soft and limp, Punk's hold on the other man grew weak and John took him out of his mouth with a loud pooping sound.

Blowing out a breath and accommodating his dick back into his pants, Punk pushed his lip ring with the tip of his tongue and smirked. "Well… that was good, I can't lie. It wasn't exactly what I wanted but it was good nonetheless. Here, let me…"

Rolling his eyes and taking out of his hoodie his man wallet, the Chicago native took a few hundred bills and threw them down to a still crouching drunk Cena.

"That's for a job well done."

Obviously getting furious, John Cena got up to his feet and in a matter of seconds he pulled his underwear and pants up, trapping his still unattended erection back inside of them. "I don't want your fucking money."

"No, I always pay what I owe so take it John; now that you are out of a job you'll need it more than me and besides, I told you I was going to pay you well. Sure, I'm not in the best position to throw away my money like that because you know, I'm out of a job too. But since I've been saving so I don't ever have to work back again, I thought I could afford this… I mean a blow job from John Cena in the middle…"

Before he could finish, Punk felt the distinct feeling of a fist connecting to his jaw and because he has been unprepared to receive it, the force of it made his stumble and then fall down to the soiled street.

It all happened too quickly for his mind to grasp and other that lifting a hand to the abused spot John just hit him, Punk couldn't do anything other than watch the former champion turn around and walk away, disappearing around the corner and probably getting lost in the streets of Chicago…


	6. Chapter 6

There was nothing… nothing in the entire world that could compare to the immense sense of satisfaction that CM Punk felt in the pit of his stomach as he stood face to face with the 'new' WWE Champion just minutes after he defeated Rey Mysterio to win that fake title he was probably wearing around his waist just now.

In Punk's mind and at the risk of sounding biased, he would say that the moment has been great. No, even more than that; the moment has been perfect and even to that day the Chicago native could remember everything about it; from the way the little hairs at the nape of his neck stood on ends as he walked down the ramp, to the way his eyes immediately found the blue orbs of Cena's eyes once he got into the ring, to the way his former rival's lips curved into a surprised smile that nothing had to do with joy and yes, to the way the same man that hadn't left his subconscious since the last time they saw each other climbed out of the ring and disappeared somewhere backstage.

So yeah, even though John's reaction was a bit disappointing, it has also been perfect. After all there was nothing like the element of surprise and that night not only did he surprise the entire WWE Universe with his return, no… he had also surprised John Cena and even when he wouldn't admit it out loud that has been one of the reasons he decided to come back… to see how would John Cena react.

It sounded silly and maybe even a little psycho but it was how it is. The workaholic in him wanted to wrestle and the man in him wanted to see the look in Cena's eye as soon as he would see him back.

Plain and simple.

Now, he had no idea that the man was going to win a new WWE Championship the same night he signed back, but now that it happened Punk couldn't help but to see how convenient that was.

It was like this, he was the true champion, period. He had won fair and square at Money in The Bank and the way he saw it, he was the legitimate champion. In his book John's title wasn't valid and he was going to make sure to strip him off that belt.

Sure, he knew John wasn't going to like that but with his Hustle, Loyalty and Respect litany, he was also sure that he would want to make things right. That was how the older man operated, he always wanted to be the good guy and this time Punk was going to play that to his advantage…

Smirking at the other man's predictability, Punk adjusted his WWE Championship over his shoulder and then kicked open the door that lead into John Cena's locker room. He did it effortlessly and without care; walking right in, closing the door behind his back and sitting down on the leather sofa where Cena also happened to be sitting while he talked into his cell phone.

Once Punk was sitting himself and with his lips cracking into a big smile at the way Cena was leering at him, Punk lifted his feet and rested them over the small coffee table in front of the sofa; then he drew in a deep breath and took a good look around the room.

"I want to know why you have your own locker room when you are not even the true champion; and with nice accommodations too."

Out of the corner of his eye, Punk observed how John licked his front upper teeth while keeping his blue eyes settled in a spot placed right in front of him, then he blinked slowly and breathed into his phone. "I'll call you back, okay?"

"You see? This…"

"What the fuck do you want?" John rasped dryly as he put his iPhone down over the table.

At those words, Punk faked a double take and snorted, his face tilting to the side so he could see the way the older man was now staring directly at him. "Why John, is that how you treat your guests? That's not very nice."

"Since you invited yourself in, I won't even consider you as a guest." John said as his lips pursed.

Clicking his tongue to his cheek, Punk shook his head and laughed. "Well… it doesn't matter; you are not being nice either way."

Now… after their last encounter, Punk had no idea what would John's reaction be once they were back in the same space and to be quite honest he didn't know how to act himself.

Last time things had ended up a bit messy and he could understand why John was acting on the defensive right now. He has been a prick… well, more of a prick than usual and yeah… he hadn't been very nice to the other man.

Some would have even say that he went as far as taking advantaged of John and he was aware of that. Of course, not that he was going to excuse himself for it but who knew…

"Seriously Punk, what the hell do you want now?" John breathed out as he indifferently laced his fingers together.

Shrugging, the tattooed man lifted his head up and sighed. "You know I'm going to go out there tonight and declare myself the true WWE Champion…"

"Do whatever you want and I'll do what I have to do." Clapping his hands together, John shrugged as well and his eyes locked for a second with Punk's, then they move away and he stared down to his sneakers.

Chuckling, Punk adjusted the WWE title over his shoulder and then ran his hand down his unshaven jaw, the ball of his fingers tapping lightly on the skin as he hummed.

Now, he didn't know why he was there telling what he was going to do out in the ring to John Cena of all people, but the fact that the man didn't let him finish his talking made him feel a bit moody.

The way he saw it, he could have gone out there to run his mouth like he only knew how so the fact that he was letting John know beforehand should be a motive to let him talk without being cut off…

But like he said before, Cena had all the motives in the world to be mad, upset and maybe even embarrassed about what happened back in Chicago so he couldn't completely blame him, or could he?

"Look, John…"

"Tell me whatever you want to tell me in the ring, I have a lot of things to do before the show starts so why don't you march out that door and let me be here by my own?"

"Actually…" Punk began to say and without letting him finish, John got up to his feet and walked right to the door. "Hey, don't let me with the word in my mouth." He said angrily, getting up as well and following the bigger man as he walked away.

But then, just when he was about to reach out and grab his upper arm to make him turn to him, John did a sudden one hundred and eighty degrees turn and ended up face to face with the Straight Edge Superstar.

Not expecting John to do that, Punk collided with him, bumping against the other man right before he was pushed harshly into the wall.

"I said that if you have anything to say to me, then you should save your breath and spill it out when we are in the ring." John muttered through clenched teeth as he cornered Punk with his body.

It was almost obscene, their bodies about to touch but not quite touching and the memory of their last encounter definitely running through both men's minds.

Sure, in the current situation Cena seemed to be having the upper hand but not being one who could be easily intimidated even in times of disadvantage, Punk tilted his head up and smirked, his eyes stopping for a second over John's lips…

Now, for the last couple of weeks he has been thinking about those lips almost nonstop; because whether he liked to admit it or not, the memory of those lips working on him had barely left his mind alone and now that they were so close he had to bite back the ridiculous thought of tasting them…

"I don't think you really want me to say what I have to say in front of an audience. There would be kids out there and we all know how much you love to keep their fun PG13."

"Do whatever the fuck you want." The words were hissed in Punk's face and the younger of the two breathed on them. "I don't care."

Keeping his eyes linked with John's, CM Punk arched an eyebrow and chuckled. "See, this is what I'm talking about. We can't have this talk out there, I mean imagine that. We would definitely be censored and your dear kids will be surprised of the things that come out of that mouth of yours… or could it be that they would be more surprise of the things that go in? Hmmm."

Letting out an un-amused snort while shaking his head from side to side, John Cena backed away from Punk and without saying a word he just walked out.

At that Punk smiled; maybe it was that John walked out this time without him doing nothing about it, but he was going to make sure that the next time they got, the older man wasn't going to escape so easily. Oh no he wasn't…

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** You guys are amazing; I really love reading your reviews and your words motivate me to write more of this couple. Too bad they are not feuding anymore because I was really enjoying them seeing interact. Anyway, enjoy ;)

**Born Of Anger**

Closing his eyes and moving his head from side until he heard the familiar muffled crack he knew was going to alleviate the pressure he was feeling on his neck, CM Punk breathed into the thick steam the hot water coming out from the shower spray was creating all around him and decided that yes, he was definitely losing his mind.

He didn't know when did it started and how did he allowed it to happen so easily, but the fact was that somehow John Cena has permeated his every thought and now, even in the solitude of his hotel room he could almost swear that he could hear him.

It was weird too… because throughout their short but intense history, the Chicago Native has never heard the other man laughing so heartedly and even though that was the sound invading all his senses, the sound of John Cena laughing…

Blinking his eyes open but unable to escape the sound, the former WWE Champion ran a hand down his face and set his eyes on the tiled wall in front of him; thinking that going crazy was not the only problem he was facing that night… not even by a long shot.

To start things off, his entire body was aching. His back was killing him, his legs felt as if they were made out of rubber and he couldn't lift his arms above his shoulders without grunting in pain. Then there was his jaw, his fingers, his hip… he was just a big mass of pain and he couldn't wait to climb into the comforts of his hotel bed and sleep the pain off.

Not that he really believed he could sleep that night. In fact, he was pretty much sure that as soon as his head hit the pillow his thoughts were going to swirl about two things, John Cena and the fact that Triple H sent one of his goonies to screw him out of his very deservingly WWE Championship.

Tensing his jaw as he thought of the last one, the Chicago native turned the knob and killed the spray of water, his imagination still making him hear John… he was chuckling this time; going at it on and on as if he was a broken disk.

Trying to ignore the sound, the Straight Edge Superstar stepped out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his hips without bothering to dry himself, he walked out of the bathroom.

One bare foot out and hearing the sound much clearer, Punk lifted his head towards his bed and the image that received him almost made him step back into the bathroom and cuss out loud. It startled him and he couldn't hide the fact that it did.

"What, did I scare you?" The man invading his room asked in amusement and Punk did his best to change his face from surprised to annoyed.

"How the hell did you get in here?"

Chuckling one last time and ignoring the question, John ran a hand down his jaw and lowered his eyes from Punk's face so he could scan him down his naked torso and all the way to his feet. "Don't you find it funny that the second biggest even of the year and the night that was supposed to determine who the real undisputed champion of the WWE was ended up with neither one of us wining? I don't know about you but for some reason I think it's extremely funny."

"You think it's funny that I beat you?"

"I find funny the fact that we went through all that shit for nothing; because now you are not the champion and I'm not the champion. I lost… but you didn't win either."

At those words, Punk placed both hands to his hips and tilted his head. In all honesty, he didn't know what to say and all his mind wanted to thing was that for the last two weeks or so the man who he was now looking at had evade him like the worst case of the swine flu and other than meeting him in the ring, he hadn't spoken to him one on one; at least not without thousands in attendance and millions watching at home.

But now… now he was there; right in his room and at reaching distance… and as his eyes found themselves fixed into the blue depths of John's own, Punk couldn't help but to think that this was not a good moment.

He was tired, he was crabby and he was in so much pain.

Sighing deeply and feeling a few drops of water running down his back, Punk arched an eyebrow and licked at his lips. "How did you get in here?" He asked again.

Shrugging and smiling a smile that showed off his dimples, John lifted a hand in the air and then let it fall to his lap. "I'm John Cena… you'll be amazed at what people would do for an autographed t-shirt and picture. Luckily, I have lots and lots of t-shirts."

"Yeah, and all of them look the same, annoying. What do you want?"

Refusing to drop his eyes away from the younger man, Cena tilted his head to the side and for a few seconds he said nothing. It was almost as if he was considering his next words very carefully and Punk wondered what he really wanted.

His answer came soon enough. "You should be the champ, Alberto Del Rio did nothing but to steal the belt away from you."

Snorting, Punk shook his head. He was not hating on the rudo wrestler known as Alberto Del Rio; if anything he could understand the man more than anyone else could and that he cashed in his briefcase on him was just the way things worked. Now, if he was really pissed at someone, that was Triple H… and Kevin Nash.

"Of course, I can argue that you really didn't win because my foot was in the rope… but you know, I'm not bitter and between you and Del Rio I rather face you in my upcoming re-match."

"Ah, we can always count on super Cena demanding a re-match. Why is it that this doesn't surprise me? Anyway, is that all you wanted to say? Because I have things to do and I don't want to do them with you taking over my bed."

Chuckling and showing no trace of the sour mood he had on him the last time they were alone, John got up to his feet and took a few steps in Punk's direction.

"You know… I really don't get you. I mean I've been trying to figure you out in my head but the more I think about you the more puzzled I am. Now, I'm going to run my mouth like a fool but bear with me here and please correct me if I wrong. So okay; first you hate me, but then you go and say that you tolerate just fine me only to a minutes after go back into getting irate over me. It was okay then, but then we kiss and for a while I think you like me… but I was wrong because later on I find out that you are back at hating me. Confusing, isn't it? But it doesn't stop there because after going back and forth with the I hate him but I don't hate him dilemma, you go and act like the biggest jerk I've ever known and God, you really don't know how much I want to grab you by the neck and squeeze as hard as I can when you get in full jerk mode."

Arching an eyebrow and standing his ground as John took yet another step towards him; Punk sucked into his mouth his lip ring and nodded. "You are not the first one that feels like that about me and trust me, you shall not be the last."

"I think things started to go straight to hell when I punched you." Snorting and shrugging, John quirked his lips. "I.. well it was my bad, I admit it but Punk, you really have a way of getting into my skin like no one else can and that night you really pissed me off?"

"Oh I did, because of what I can remember I did nothing to you that night, I wasn't even talking to you or about you but you still came trying to steal the show, didn't you?"

Lowering his eyes and standing a breath away from Punk, John lifted a hand and placed it over the door frame of the bathroom. In a way he was cornering Punk and the younger man refused to take a step back and retreat, hell no.

But even though he remained still, his mind was running a thousand miles per second and he forgot everything about the incident he was just talking about and focused only in the way the Massachusetts' own eyes delved deep into his.

"So tell me, where do you really stand when it comes to me? Is it that you really hate me or is it an act you like to pull off. And please Punk, no more bullshit here."

"No more bullshit, uh?" Nodding, Punk looked up to the bigger man and snorted. "Well what about this. I don't hate you, John… as a matter of fact I don't care about you and now that I defeated you once again to prove that I'm indeed the best in the world, I want to move on from you and focus on bigger things…"

"Bullshit."

"That's not bullshit."

"Yes it is, that's the biggest load of crap I've heard you say and really Punk, what are you so afraid to admit?"

"Oh ugh… no, no… don't try to use that kind of cheap psychology on me because it won't work."

Laughing, John threw his head back and mumbled under his breath something about Punk being the most obstinate son of a bitch he has ever known in his entire life. After that he lowered his head and went back to look at him.

"What was that at Chicago?"

Shifting his weight to his other foot, Punk sighed and rolled his eyes. "What about it?"

His face getting more serious, John locked his blue eyes with those of Punk's and took in a deep breath. "You know what I mean by it, as I'm sure you know you didn't have to do that."

Curving his lips into a grin he wasn't quite feeling, Punk shrugged. "I didn't have to do it… that's true; but I did it." In fact, he was about to throw a lame joke about wanting to prove a point that Cena indeed sucked but at the end, he decided it wasn't necessary. However, he didn't keep his mouth shut. "And I don't regret it."

"I'm sure you don't… as I'm not going to regret this." With that said, Cena quickly grabbed Punk by the shoulders and swirled him around.

"Hey, what do you think you are doing?" Without fighting back, Punk complained as Cena took off his cap and threw it away.

As a reply, John Cena pushed the smaller man as hard as he could and made him stumble back, the back of his knees hitting the bed and thus making him fall in a sitting position on top pf it. "You hate this shirt right?"

Furrowing his brows, Punk observed the way John took his ugly red shirt off and threw it away. "What the…" He managed to say, but before he could go on, John bent down and pressed his mouth hard to hiss and without wasting time in preambles, he pushed his tongue pass his lips and started to kiss him.

Grunting, Punk tried to lift his hands to John's shoulders so he could push him off but the effort was too painful; besides, before his mind could even come up with a new way of fight him off, John forced him down to his back and resting his full way against him, he gave Punk no other way out.

Now, he knew deep in his mind that he needed to find a way out, but as John kept kissing him his own resolution vanished and before he could register it in his brain, he was kissing the other man back.

It was inevitable; his flesh was weak, John was kissing him with a passion he had only encountered in him at the ring and briefly in that night Chicago and he just couldn't help but to be a willing participant in the assault.

So when John would push his tongue deep into his mouth, Punk would use his own tongue to swirl it around his; and when John would push his hips hard against Punk's, the Chicago native would meet him with a push of his own so his groin could collide deliciously against the hardening bulge John was hiding in his pants.

What was going on there was really something else and Punk couldn't remember why he has been fighting against the attraction they both seemed to feel to each other. Right in that moment, giving into John Cena seemed like the right thing to do and he didn't even mind when the towel that has been covering his nakedness was pulled and tossed to the side.

In fact, he liked when the towel was off and in a weird kind of way, the feeling of John's erection brushing against his while the rough fabric of his damn pants covered him was really making his blood boil as it ran through his veins.

The friction was amazing… true, but he also couldn't wait for a skin to skin contact.

Exposed and feeling one of John's hands slid to his sides so it could rest over his hip, Punk took in his hands the face of the man he fought at SummerSlam not more than two hours ago and pulled him away.

His intention has been that of looking into those amazing blue eyes of him for a second, but as soon as their lips separated, John grinned and before placing a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth he pulled up to his feet.

"Well! That was _very_ interesting but I don't know, when you feel like quitting your mind games and your bullshit come and see me. I'll be waiting." With that said, John picked up his shirt and flashing him a big smile, he walked out the door and left.

He left just like that, leaving Punk laying naked on his bed, with a hard on and with the sudden urge of walking behind John fucking Cena and force him back into his bed…


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** It took me an eternity to come up with this and I wrote it while watching cartoons with my daughter… (meaning that if it makes no sense then I'm sorry, lol). Anyway, I've been writing this story keeping in mind what's going on in Raw, but since they are not feeding me with Cena/Punk anymore I feel lost. This one starts to drift a bit from what's going on every Monday night but not by much. Also, as some of you already know, English is not my first language and I'm still leagues away of mastering the grammar… so please, forgive my errors and horrors! Enjoy ;)

**Born Of Anger**

Sitting with his shoulders slumped and his feet firmly set on the floor beneath the chair he was sitting on, CM Punk blinked a couple of times as he stared absentmindedly at the wall in front of him.

He has been like that for several minutes; sporting a vacant stare, feeling slightly dazed and having the distinct feeling that he wanted to puke his guts out. That was why he was still at the arena even when the show already ended, because he was feeling like shit and he didn't have it in him to get up to his feet and drive back to his hotel.

He didn't even feel like reaching for his phone and calling a taxi to be picked up; that was how bad he felt and for all he cared he would be staying there until morning came and the stadium employees would kick him out of there.

Yeah, let that happen… who cared? At the arena or at his bed, it wasn't like he would be sleeping the night anyway.

Blinking his olive green colored eyes slowly once again and trying to ignore the constant ringing in his ears, the Chicago native decided that even though he had lived much better days, he has also have them worse. Like the time when he cracked his skull open… nothing could beat that.

But that didn't take away from the fact that he felt like crap and lowering his eyes to the floor, he swore that the next time he spotted Kevin Nash, he was going to beat the shit out of him. He could also take it against the stupid Triple nose that served the WWE as COO, because in his mind he was as guilty as the other one for making him feel like he was feeling now.

As his fussy mind mused about retributions to come, the former WWE Champion heard someone whistling some happy-crappy tune and when he looked to the side he saw John Cena in his usual content demeanor walking into the room and helping himself to a bottle of water.

Punk watched him, his eyes taking in the form of the older man as he passed him by as if nothing was wrong between the two of them. It was almost as if John hadn't even acknowledged him and he wondered if the man had seen him sitting there at the corner.

As if it mattered.

Pursing his lips, the tattooed wrestler shrugged and went back into staring at the wall, paying no mind to John because really, he was in no mood to think about the other man and even less to go back in memory lane to the last encounter he had with him.

Sure, over the last two weeks he has given the man much though, but because he has been too occupied with his Triple H/Nash problems, he hadn't come with a conclusion to whatever was going on between them.

He liked him… even though he wouldn't admit it out loud and even when he didn't want to deal with it, he liked John and he was sure that the other man liked him too.

But they were on a dead end, he and that other man had nothing in common but a stupid attraction that was born out of anger and he couldn't see them getting together. They were too messed up to do be something more than rivals and he has half decided that the best he could do was turn the page and keep on with his life.

Silently agreeing with that, CM Punk tilted his head to the side, his eyes searching for John and finding him standing next to the almost empty catering table. He was just there, sipping on his water and looking at him.

"That was brutal. I mean tonight in the ring when Nash power-bombed you…" John said, making up a face that resembled pain as if he has been the one who was suffering from the consequences of that power bomb.

Blinking slowly and moving his eyes away from John, Punk pushed the inside of his cheek with his tongue and decided not to give a reply to that. Yeah, he knew it has been brutal, after all he has been at the receiving end of it and now, one hour after it happened, he was still feeling the repercussions of it.

His head was pounding, his back was killing him, he had nausea and he couldn't stand up without losing his balance. He was just fucked up all over and for that he had to thank the new COO and his best buddy; the two clowns that seemed to be set on screwing him time after time.

Not that he was going to admit that, admitting was defeat and he was far from being defeated.

"Hey, are you alright?" John asked and out of the corner of his eye Punk could see him moving forward and straight towards him.

"I'm lovely." He said, his ears picking up that his raspy tone came off as everything but lovely.

"Well you don't look lovely, you look like shit." John said and before Punk could even blink, the older man was crouching down in front of him. It happened too fast, he just came, settled himself in place and grabbed his face so he could look into his eyes. "Did you hit your head hard out there? It seemed like you did."

Twisting his lips into a snarl, Punk tried to move his head away from John's touch. It was inutile though because John wasn't letting him go. "Leave me alone."

"Do you know you could have a concussion?" John asked in that serious tone he had of speaking from time to time as his eyes fixed deep into Punk's.

Blowing out a breath, the self-proclaimed voice of the voiceless looked back into John's eyes and arched an eyebrow. "Who are you, my Dr.? I told you I'm fine."

"Really? Then why are you still here way after the show ended, in your wrestling gear and looking like the most miserable man in the world?" He asked, his lips pursing and his dimples showing.

"I don't know, maybe because I like it here. It has free food and up until a minute ago no one was bothering me. Is that a good answer for you? Now fuck off." He spat angrily, wishing the man would just leave him alone once and for all.

Uttering no word, John got up to his feet and in a swift movement he grabbed Punk by his best in the world t-shirt and pulled him up. He did it with no effort whatsoever and when the Chicago native was up to his feet, he let go of his shirt and pushed him lightly.

As a result, Punk stumbled backwards and unable to find his balance he fell back into his chair. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asked in anger, but even though he wanted to get up and beat the shit out of him, he didn't. He was afraid that he wouldn't be able to stand up by himself and he didn't want John to see him struggling to stay on his own feet.

"Did you tell the MTs?"

Looking up and looking straight into the clear blue eyes of the man standing in front of him, Punk took a deep breath and then he let it escape pass his lips. "No." In fact, when the MTs were going to check on him he brushed them off by telling them that he was fine and that was it, they didn't insist and kept going their way.

"And why didn't you?" John asked, folding his arms to his chest as his eyes closed to slits.

Shrugging, the younger man rolled his eyes. "Because if I said something they wouldn't let me wrestle in the next shows and…"

"Stupid mother fucker." John mumbled before Punk could finish his sentence. "Do you know how dangerous… you know, never mind." Giving a shrug himself, John bent down and once again pulled Punk to his feet. Only that instead of shoving him back, he kept grabbing him by one arm until Punk felt confident enough to stand on his own.

"Where is your stuff?" John asked looking around.

"Why?" Punk answered in distrust, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the muscled man starting to move away from him.

"Because now that I know you won't fight back I want to sell them on E-bay, duh."

At those words, Punk breathed in but remained standing in place.

"Actually, I want to know so I can get them from you before I take you back to the hotel-"

"I don't _need_ you to get my stuff and I don't need you to take me anywhere, John. So why don't go back the same way you came and leave me alone?"

Smiling as if Punk just confessed that he hadn't been able to get him off his mind instead of telling him off; John walked to him until he was standing face to face with him. Once there, he lifted his hand up and thinking that he was going to push him again, Punk grabbed it in midair and held to it.

With the smile still on his lips, John swirled his hand around so that he was the one holding Punk's hand instead. "Where are your manners, Punk? I'm doing you a favor here so the least you can do is say thanks John, you are too kind even when I've been the biggest douchebag to you."

Tilting his head to the side, the younger of the two ran his tongue over his lower lip; the feeling of his hand secured in John's making him feel a bit distracted. "Thank you John, but I would appreciate if you will just leave me the fuck alone."

Snorting and refusing to let go, John looked down and shook his head. "Do you want me to leave you here? I don't know if you noticed but there isn't a line of people out there willing to give you a ride. In fact, I don't think anyone in that locker room cared enough to notice how awful you landed with that power bomb and no, no one even noticed that you looked dazed as you walked back that ramp and no one took the time to walk here and check on you. So as I see it, you either come with me or you stay here."

Not even minding his words, Punk blinked and arched an eyebrow. "I have a car, I don't need a ride."

Laughing, John let go of Punk's hand and slapped his own face. "Jesus Christ, not only are you stupid but you are also stubborn! That's a fatal combination to have and man, you have the worst kind I've ever seen. No wonder why no one back there likes you very much."

With the irises of his eyes darkening, CM Punk looked at John in disdain and snorted. "What the fuck do you know? You don't know anything about me so don't…"

"Oh, but I know plenty about you." John said with a smile. "I know that you hate when people call you Phil but that you get a kick out of calling people by their given names; I know that your kisses taste like fruity bubble gum, that even when you claim to hate coffee you can't go with your day without an early visit to Starbucks, I know that you will take Pepsi over Coke, that you like comics and original horror films. Hmm, let's see, I also know that you don't get close to anyone in the business unless it's Colt Cabana; I know you don't drink or do drugs; I know you can sing but do it mostly to piss people off and I know that when you are back home you like to go out and ride your bike-"

"You are a fucking stalker, Cena." Punk said as he shook his aching head so very slowly.

Shrugging, Cena smiled. "Not really, I just follow you on Twitter. But anyway, do you know what else I know?" He asked getting closer to him, so close that when Punk breathed in he was invaded by the scent of him and so close that if he moved an inch closer they would end up kissing.

But instead of kissing him, what John did was brush the knuckles of his right hand against the front of his wrestling trunks. "I know how this taste in my mouth and I know that you don't want me to take you back to the hotel for the same reason you've been evading me all this time…"

Lifting his chin up and swallowing down, Punk arched an eyebrow. Cena was still too fucking close and he could feel that even though his hand already moved away from him, it was still close enough to make the little hairs at nape of his neck stand on ends. "I haven't been evading you."

"Is that so…" Cena said, his eyes delving deep into Punk's as his lips started to curve into a smile. "Anyway; this is not the time to talk about that. You are messed up and probably suffering from a concussion so I'll just kindly drop you at your room. So tell me, where are your things?"

Parting his lips and allowing his tongue to touch his lip ring, CM Punk thought about it for a second, then before he could weigh the repercussions this could bring into his life, he sighed and responded. "In my locker; they are in my locker room."

"Good, then let me get them for you and then we'll leave."

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Born Of Anger**

"John… you are fucking throttling me." The Chicago native known as CM Punk complained through clenched teeth just after the man he once considered his number one nemesis yanked the card-key to his hotel room out of his hand so he could open the door himself.

"Sorry," Cena said with a smile on his lips while looking briefly back to him; but if truth had to be told, Punk would say that the man sounded and looked anything but apologetic.

In fact, even with mind messed up he could swear that John was more amused than anything else and as he watched him swirling his bag over his shoulder and then helping himself into his bedroom, the Straight Edge superstar started to question why did he allowed John to take him back to the hotel.

He should have known that the older man was going to suffocate him with his incessant 'act' of good nature; first searching for his bags and carrying them for him into the car, then walking too fucking close just in case his legs would betray him, afterwards stopping at a gas station for a bottle of aspirins he hadn't touched and now sneaking into his room to help him in.

To a very independent CM Punk that wasn't used to relying the most simple tasks of his daily life to someone else, John was being too much.

If he would be a hundred percent in his full capacity he would have told the Champ to fuck off since the moment he saw him back at the arena…

Sure, he did tell him to fuck off, but apparently it has been without any kind of conviction because he was still there and by the looks of things, with no intention to go anywhere.

Puffing out a breath and dragging his feet forward, Punk walked into the room and left the door open for John to get the hell out. "Okay, that's it; thank you and goodbye."

Dropping Punk's duffel bag at the foot of the bed, John Cena whistled as he took a look around the room. "Man, you sure are messy."

At that Punk didn't even bother to respond, he knew that before going to the arena that afternoon he has spilled all the contents of his rolling suitcase over the bed so he could find a pair of socks. He also knew that there was an empty pizza box thrown somewhere in the floor and his bed was unmade.

"You are free to send me a maid if you see one on your way out. Ah, and tell her not to mind the do not disturb sign hanging from the door handle because I'll be passed out in my bed to care anyways."

Snorting amusedly and shaking his head, John walked to the door and closed it; only that instead of getting out he remained inside. "Okay, I'll tell her… when I get out later on. But between you and me, I don't think it's in her job description to pick after your shit."

With that said, Cena walked to Punk's bed and in one swift motion he threw all his things back into the open suitcase laying on the floor.

"Of course it is, that's why they pay her for. As for you, please _don't_ touch my stuff."

"Then _you_ pick them up." Straightening up and with a smile making his dimples appear in full display, John puffed out a breath.

"Why, because you say so? Fuck off John and don't mind what I have or don't have over my bed."

Blinking slowly, John pursed his lips and placed both hands casually over his hips. "Why are you so fucking dense? I'm just clearing your bed so you don't sleep over your clothes."

Closing his eyes for a moment and trying not to get annoyed when he was feeling so bad, the Second City Savior dragged his hand down his face and then blew out a breath. "John, really… I'm not in the mood for this right now."

And he really wasn't. Sure, the nausea had disappeared and he was more confident of moving around without having the distinct feeling that his wobbly legs would make him fall; but he still had one hell of a headache and the pain in his back was only getting worse.

He just wanted John to get out of his room so he could lay down and rest.

"In the mood for what?" The older man asked in a loud chuckle as he turned around to head into the bathroom. "I'm not doing anything… so I don't know, just act as if you can't see me."

Unable to find the humor in that, Punk remained standing in his spot and it wasn't until he heard the shower running that his mind started to function once again.

"And what the fuck do you think you are doing now?" Punk asked with a roll of his eyes as he slowly made it to the open door of his hotel bathroom.

Walking in, he didn't see that John was walking out so as soon as he crossed the doorframe he collided against the other man. The impact wasn't too grave, but in his current condition he lost his balance and if it wasn't because John was quick to react to hold him in place, he would have ended up falling down on his ass.

"Hey… watch it there, big boy." John whispered with a smile gracing his full lips as he eyed Punk down, his eyes sparkling as he looked at him.

After he said that, Punk felt the Massachusetts' native's hands sneaking to his lower back so he could press him against his solid frame and he groaned in annoyance, trying to push him away.

His efforts where in vain though; his arms seemed to have lost all their strength and John's grip on him was firm and more than secure.

"Get your hands off of me." The tattooed wrestler said curtly, arching an eyebrow as his eyes locked into the baby blue depths that were John's eyes.

"Sure," John said as he clicked his tongue to his cheek. Then he moved his hands away and blinking his eyes slowly he shrugged. "Anyway, why don't you ahead and take a shower. I bet that would make you feel better."

At those words, Punk felt like telling John to mind his own business; he also wanted to tell him that he wasn't going to take a shower just because he was telling him to do so… fuck no…

But before the words came out he realized that he wanted to take a shower. After his match earlier that night he went straight into catering and sat there until John found him, meaning that he didn't even change and he was feeling a bit nasty.

And yeah, it would come as a shock to many unbelievers, but Punk actually bathed before and after his matches and he knew that he couldn't go to bed with dried sweat sticking to his flesh.

So with that in mind and taking in a deep breath, Punk lifted a hand to his temples and closed his eyes briefly. "Well, do you mind to give me some privacy? I don't like having a crowd when I take a shower."

Shaking his head and folding his arms up to his chest, John pursed his lips. "Why, you don't have anything in there I haven't seen before and being the good guy that I am, I want to make sure you don't slip and break your neck or while you are in there."

Opening his eyes and furrowing his brows, Punk snorted in disbelief. "I won't fucking slip so get the fuck out."

Grinning and lifting a hand to his chin, John took a step closer to Punk and then he breathed out. "Why are you so afraid of me?"

Doing a double take, Punk eyed the other man severely and then snorted. "I'm not afraid of you, John… what I am is tired and annoyed by the fact that you won't just go away. For fuck's sake, you are like a damn pest!"

"So I won't go away, uh? Well that's a bit weird to me because for the last couple of weeks I haven't talked to you and I haven't even gotten near you. So that you are tired of me seems… I don't know… like a load of bullshit."

Snorting and shifting the weight of his body to his left foot, Punk blinked a couple of times. "Bullshit?"

Dragging his hand down his face, Cena laughed. "You know, you are messed up tonight so why don't we leave this conversation for later?"

Punk shook his head no… he didn't want to have this conversation at all, not now, not ever. For all he cared whatever there was between them was done before it could go anywhere.

There was nothing to talk about and the best John could do was keep going his way while he did the same.

Arching an eyebrow and taking notice of the way the other man was looking at him, Punk pushed his lower lips with the tip of his tongue. "Lock the door when you go out." With that said, he kicked off his sneakers and then turned around so could take off his shirt.

Once that was done he got into the shower and pulled the curtain close so he could take off the rest of his clothes without John looking.

"See, you are afraid of me. The only thing you do is evade me at all costs and that only corroborates what I just told you."

"Not really, that just corroborates what _I_ told you; you annoy me." After saying that, Punk stepped into the warm spray of the shower and allowed the warm water to treat his body nicely before starting with the task of washing his body.

He did it slowly, closing his eyes and moving his head from side to side, trying to alleviate the pain in his neck.

"Really? That's not the impression I got after last time."

Hearing John's voice too damn near, Punk quickly opened his eyes and tried to turn around. But before he could do it he felt a pair of hands settle on his naked hips and he jumped, startled.

"Oh, look at this... you almost slipped right now. Good thing I'm here… isn't it?" After saying that, John pressed to Punk's back and the first thing the Chicago native noticed was that the man behind him was naked and that his groin was pushing against him.

"Get your fucking dick off of me." Punk said without moving, his senses getting blurred as he watched John taking the body wash out of his hand so he could squeeze some of it on his palm.

When he gathered a good amount of it, he started to run his hands from Punk's chest and towards his stomach, working in slow circular motions as he slowly breathed against his neck.

At that Punk shivered, but wanting to cover up he tried to jerk away from the other man. What the fuck was going on and how did John ended up in his shower?

"Relax… I'm not going to do anything you haven't done to me before."

"Oh really? Well I don't remember invading your room, jumping into the shower with you and then rubbing my dick to your ass." Punk replied, a bit annoyed with himself because he was just standing there, feeling John fucking Cena's cock getting semi-hard against the flesh of his buttocks while his hands roamed dangerously near his pubic bone.

By all rights he should be knocking him down where he stood.

"Technically… no. But you did take advantage of me that night in Chicago; am I right or am I right?" John whispered darkly, his hands lowering down pass his hip bone so that his fingers could wrap around his still limp cock.

"I didn't force you to anything that night…" Swallowing down a gasp, Punk said in his defense. "What you did you did it willingly enough." He finished in cue for John to start stroking him.

Now, he didn't know if it was because his head was messed up or because his defenses were down, but the thing was that he wasn't objecting Cena's touch and his body was even starting to react to him.

It was bad, but he was getting a damn erection in John's hand and that was a big no, no. He definitely wasn't thinking straight and for some reason he didn't think that was a good thing for him.

But it was just that what John was doing with his hands felt too damn nice; with one he was stroking his cock from base to head and with the other one he was gently massaging his balls. Then adding to that the way his now full erect cock was accommodating in a way that it was nestled between his ass cheeks, rubbing up and down and that was it. He had no judgment to rely on.

"No you didn't… and trust me; if you would have been nicer to me I would have let you go farther than that. Not in the middle of the street, mind you, but I don't know… somewhere else. Too bad you didn't and instead turned into your full jerk mode."

Throwing his head back so it could rest against John, Punk bit down on a moan and placed both hands to the tiled wall in front of him to maintain his balance. He was listening to what the man was saying, but to what he just said he had no response.

Yeah, that night in Chicago he had wanted to go even further; he had wanted to fuck John so hard he wouldn't be able to walk straight for days… but that memory seemed so long ago now and all he could think now was on the sweet ache forming inside his lower stomach.

"But that's okay, because now I know that you act like a jerk with me and that you evade me because you are afraid of this…"

"Afraid that you would jump into the opportunity of getting your hands on of me?" Punk replied, his voice coming off as a little bit raspy.

Before he would respond to that, Cena pressed his lips to Punk's earlobe and nibbled at it with his teeth. He did it while pushing his hips into the other man so his dick could keep sliding up his ass cheeks; but then, pulling off a bit he switched positions and instead of keeping on with that, he started to rub the crown of his erection against Punk's tight pucker.

Tensing but without pulling away, Punk bit hard on his lower lip as Cena's tongue darted out to taste his skin. He wasn't used to this… he was more into taking control of his sexual encounters and that he was letting John do what he was doing was something he wouldn't allow in his right mind.

Not that he hadn't done it before, but with John it was…

"No; afraid that you would actually want me to get my hands on you like this. I mean what other reason do you have for running from this when it's so obvious that you want it? I tried to wait for you to realize it and come to me on your own but Phil… I ran out of patience."

With that said, he grabbed Punk's face and sliding his lips from his ear to his lip, he kissed him.

Giving into the moment, Punk parted his lips and allowed Cena's to slide his tongue into his mouth. It was for a moment though, because with his neck hurting so much it was a bit uncomfortable to kiss like that. So, having a moment of poor judgment, he turned around and pressing his body hard into John's, he went back into kissing him…

Maybe John was right? What was the point of fight it?

**TBC**

Sorry I left it there, but time is working against me as of late and I had to squeeze a little time to write just this. Anyway, thanks so much for the great reviews; you guys are awesome and reading what you have to say is what makes me keep with this story.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks so much for the amazing reviews and yup, sorry about last chapter. I hope I can make it up to you with this one ;)

**Born Of Anger**

CM Punk didn't need his brain to be functioning in its full capacity to comprehend what was it that John Cena really wanted to get out of him that night.

Sure, the bump he took earlier on had left his mind a little fussy and his judgment more than a little questionable; but with the way he was acting, even a mindless man could see the intentions behind John's acts and right in that moment, Punk was seeing it all crystal clear.

It was like this, the man had jumped into his shower, took the liberty of touching him and cornering while naked and vulnerable and then started to rub his dick all over his ass. It didn't end there though, because while his mind was spiraling out of control he set up a nice rhythm to jerk him off with the sole purpose of getting him hot and hard and then he kissed him as if there was no tomorrow.

See, he didn't need to be a hundred percent in his right mind to know; reading the former champ's intentions was no hard science.

And if things wouldn't have been pretty obvious to the Straight Edge Superstar by then, he would have taken the hint out of the way John was now thrusting his hips against him while his sneaky hands slid all the way from the back of his head to lower down and go straight to his ass.

"Goddamit Punk, do you even know what you do to me?" Cena mumbled darkly against the Chicago native wrestler's lips before quickly plunging his tongue back into the cave of his mouth to continue with the slow exploration.

As a response, Punk only hummed; his own hands tentatively getting into the action by resting on John's hips and crawling back and forth over his lower back and sides. But even though he was now touching John, he didn't see what he was doing to him because in reality he wasn't doing anything.

He was just there and even though he was reciprocating the kiss by sliding his tongue along John's; the older man was the one doing things…

His were the hands that were roaming around his upper tights and ass, he was the one who was pulling him hard against him so that their erections could press together even more than they already were and his were the restless fingers that were kneading at his flesh.

The only thing he was basically doing was kissing him back and touching him a little bit.

Ah, but he should be doing a lot more; even with his clouded mind he knew that he should be connecting his fist to John's kisser and kicking him in the balls as a lesson not to touch him like that while he was probably suffering from a concussion that wasn't letting him think things first. But concussion and all, his mind was compromised into the moment and for once in his life he didn't want to think… even if it was for a little while.

Besides, what John was doing felt nice. He liked the way his hands were feeling him up, he was really into the way he was kissing him with everything he had and he couldn't lie, he particularly liked how hot and hard John's cock felt sliding and grinding against his own.

So for now, there was no punching or kicking… for now there was only time to feel.

Now, what he should really be doing was being more forward than receptive; he should be the one touching John, making him go down to his knees so he could blow him and then he should tear his ass in two with his cock...

Tilting his head to the side to escape the kiss, Punk opened his eyes and looked up to the ceiling. He would have looked at John but as soon as he ended the kiss, the man went straight ahead and attacked the underside of his jaw with a series of wet kisses that traveled all the way to his shoulders and then back up to his neck.

In that little act John used a combination of teeth, tongue and lips to treat the Second City Savior's sensitive flesh and as a result of the ministrations, a low moan that sounded as if it has been torn out of his guts escaped pass his lips to end the silence they had unknowingly established.

"Sensitive spot?" John asked huskily and even though he wasn't looking, Punk could feel the man's lips grinning against him.

"Fuck you." He groaned, but when John dragged his lips down his neck to kiss and then bite the spot where his pulse was beating frantically against his skin, he moaned again.

"Eager already, aren't we?" John breathed out amusingly and then his hands were sliding back up.

To that Punk didn't say anything, he just closed his eyes and felt the way John's fingers traveled to the back of his neck and started to softly massage him where he needed it the most.

His touch was firm and gentle, adding to that the way the spray of the water was falling over his aching body and it felt really nice. He sighed, throwing his head back against the tiled wall while John continued to soothe his neck.

"Do you like this?" John asked, his voice so low that Punk had to open his eyes to look at him just to make sure he didn't imagine the other man talking.

Lowering his face, what he saw was John facing him; his darkening blue eyes delving deep into his olive green ones and his lips curving into his patented smirk… the one that showed off his dimples.

Looking at him like that; close to him, water dripping down his face and eyes wild with lust, Punk realized two things; the first one, if the roles would be inverted, he would have turned John around a long time ago to fuck him silly; the second one, he wouldn't mind doing that to him.

John… fucking… Cena… he couldn't remember wanting and hating a man so much in his entire life. But nah, he didn't hate him… not really.

Putting his messed up thoughts aside, Punk lowered his hands from John's lower back and cupped his ass with the palms of his hands. What he felt was more than nice, for a guy John Cena had a firm but fleshy behind and he took his time exploring.

While he did that, John leaned forward and went back to kissing him, pushing pass his lips and coaxing the younger man to return the kiss by swirling his tongue around his while his fingers buried into his hair.

Feeling feverish and losing ground, Punk kissed John hungrily. He was already in a point of no return and he had made peace with the fact that whatever was going to happen between him and John, it was going to happen that night.

It was imminent, he was seeing it now and not wanting to delay things a minute longer, his hands started to move more firmly against John, parting his ass cheeks and exposing him. On his part, he got John to kiss him harder and while they were at it, one of his fingers ventured to slide between the crack of the older man's ass to touch and circle his pucker.

At the invasion, John pulled away from Punk's lips and sucked in a breath.

Punk took the opportunity to return the favor John did to him a few minutes ago and he slid his lips down to his throat. Once there he nibbled, sucked and kissed until he felt John tremble against him.

In any other occasion, the Voice of the Voiceless would have thrown some smart-ass comment about John's reaction… but this wasn't any another occasion and what he really wanted was to make John tremble once again. So with that in mind, he put a little more of pressure to his touch, feeling the way the tip of his finger slid into one of John's Cena most private parts.

"Oh shit…" Panting and showing little resistance, John allowed Punk to wriggle his way deeper and only with the way John's walls received him, the tattooed man's cock twitched in anticipation.

If that was only with his finger, imagine what it would feel to bury his cock deep inside of him. It would be tight; he knew it… warm and tight.

"Want more?" Punk whispered, but before he could start moving around or even add another finger, Cena pulled apart and thus he forced Punk to pull his digit away.

"I do… I want a hell of a lot more." With that said, he grabbed Punk by the waist and swirled him around.

Blinking the water out of his eyes, Punk managed to maintain his balance and when he felt the Massachusetts' own positioning himself behind him while making him bend his back slightly, he knew what was coming.

His mind registered it; it told him what the one and only John Cena wanted to do to him and it warned him about how uncomfortable it was going to be after being out of practice for so long. But he didn't listen; his head was full of fog and the only thing he was able to do was suck in a breath and close his eyes tight.

To all that was happening, John didn't say anything… oh, but Punk could hear his labored breathing close to his ear while the head of his erection started to slowly slide into his ass and he could definitely feel him.

Fuck yeah that he could feel him, the man was trying to squeeze his engorged cock into his tight ass with no preparation whatsoever so of course he could feel him.

"Mother fucker." He growled, shaking his head and holding his breath as inch by inch of his former rival's manhood took residence inside of him.

The pain was sharp as he had anticipated and he pressed his forehead to the wall, trying to get used to the feeling of getting stretched and fucked by the man behind him.

"Jesus… Phil, so fucking tight." John hissed once his entire length was buried deep inside of the Chicago native.

Taking in a breath and counting this as the third time John called him by his given name instead of Punk, the raven haired man swallowed hard and replied. "No shit, that's my fucking ass… not the Grand Canyon."

Not minding his words and letting a moan escape out of his lips, John grabbed Punk by the hips and started to move within him; slowly at first and then picking up a rhythm that he seemed to enjoy.

As for Punk, after the pain started to fade away he started to enjoy it as well; especially when one of John's hands moved away from his hips and started to work on his cock.

"How about this, do you like it?"

Biting hard on his lips, the younger man opened his eyes and looked down his body, getting caught up in the sight of Cena's fingers circling his erection tight in their grip while stroking him.

Did he like it? Of course he did, after all he was only human and it has been such a long time since he got to enjoy the sweet burning sensation that it was to have another person moving deep inside of him. It was a pleasant ache that was making his blood ring loud in his ears.

Besides this was John Cena… the John Cena fucking him raw.

Throwing his head back while John pounded into him, Punk moaned out loud. Yes, he was really liking it and by the low sounds John was making every time he withdrew almost all the way out of him just to slam back in, he liked it too.

He must be having one hell of a show too and he wished he could also take a look of what was going on back there.

"Fuck, I've always wanted to do this-" John said, his hand moving from his hip to his back and up towards the nape of his neck. Once there his fingers reached into his hair to bury there and then he gave him a slight pull.

All that while, he kept thrusting into him and his other hand kept jerking him off. It was insane, he loved it.

"Damn it… man."

Punk allowed the older man to have a go at him for a while, but he knew that if things kept like that he wasn't going to last much and he didn't want that, not yet. So with that in mind he pulled away from John until his cock slid completely out of him and straightening up he turned around so he could face him.

"Let's go to the bed." He mumbled out of breath and not having to say it twice, John wrapped his arm to his waist and pulled him out of the shower.

In the back of his mind, Punk wanted to protest the way John practically dragged him out of the bathroom and to the bed but he let it pass, waiting until the older man placed him on top of the mattress to say something about it.

"Wait… hold your horses right there, John." Punk said just when the multiple WWE Champion was going to climb on top of him. "We did things your way back there, now it's my turn.

With that said and without tearing his eyes away from John's flushed face and dark eyes, Punk changed positions and John ended up being the one laying on his back over the mattress.

"Your way? We've been doing things your way since the very beginning."

"Just shut the fuck up." Standing up, Punk allowed his eyes to drink on the sight presented to him; a naked John Cena glistening wet on his bed while sporting the biggest wood ever and looking at him with hungry eyes.

It was perfect… he was perfect. Well, as long as he was naked and with his mouth shut; otherwise he was kind of annoying.

"Make me… and what are you looking at?" The man laying down asked as his lips cracked into a grin.

Grunting, Punk understood that John knew he has been checking him out so he arched an eyebrow and pushed his lip ring with the tip of his tongue.

See? annoying.

"I can shut you up with my cock in your mouth, how about that?" Punk breathed out before lowering himself on top of John and apparently, Cena knew what Punk wanted because he automatically spread his legs for him and then he pulled him closer.

"How about if I shut you up?" John responded while the Straight Edge accommodated himself on top of him, his body molding against him while the head of cock pressed against his ass.

"Dream on it."

What followed happened quickly; John kissed Punk long and deep while his hands slid to his lower back and Punk darted his hips forward until his cock broke pass the tight entrance of John's ass.

"Shit… Goddamit." John panted breaking the kiss and he threw his head back.

"Fuck… just… fuck." Punk panted as his entire cock was swallowed into Cena's passage. And just like he had imagined, the man was ridiculously tight… so tight that he was having a hard time moving within him as his space was so restricted.

The sensation was overwhelming and he clumsily searched for John's lips to kiss, thrusting in and out of him repeatedly until his blood started to roar in his ears and everything but the sensation of John laying helpless underneath him started to blur.

"I'm going to fucking cum, God…" The older man mumbled against his lips before reassuming kissing Punk with the same fervor as before.

At those words, Punk increased his tempo, slamming hard against John while putting a stop to their kiss just to let their lips press together.

"That's it… cum for me, John." The green eyed man growled as his hand sneaked between their bodies so he could squeeze Cena's cock… hoping to send him over the edge.

"Phil… shit, don't stop… now… shit."

With that, John's inner muscles closed tight all around Punk's sensitive cock and he yelped. Apparently that was it for him; he just exploded in Punk's hand while being overtaken by a series of spasms that robbed the younger man out of his remaining control.

So… following him into bliss, Punk's balls tightened and he pushed his hips as far as they would go, then with a low throaty groan he climaxed, losing himself into the moment while everything around him started to spin out of control.

Out of instinct, he kept thrusting into John erratically, his erection throbbing and spilling until it had nothing more to give.

"Fuck," He hissed once he was a bit more in control and then he collapsed to his side, sliding out of John and closing his eyes as soon as his head hit the mattress.

"I know-" John mumbled out of breath. "Damn that was really something else."

"Don't get used to it; I'm not always going to have a concussion. Next time…"

He started to say but before he could go on, John turned around and pressed his chest against him. "Next time? I like how that sounds."

Opening one eye and finding John Cena looking at him with sparkling blue eyes, CM Punk took in a deep long breath and then puffed it out through his mouth. "And who said there was going to be a next time?"

Snorting, John closed the distance that separated them and kissed him full on the lips. "You just did, you said it."

Wrinkling his nose, Punk shook his head. "No I didn't." Or did he? He wasn't sure anymore.

"Yes you did. Do you want me to quote you?"

Closing his eye and sighing, Punk pursed his lips. "Hmm, shut up; I'm gonna sleep now."

"Alright… go to sleep… for now."


	11. Chapter 11

CM Punk woke up with the distinct feeling that his head was a second away from splitting in two. It was awful, almost as if his brain had swollen ten times its normal size and his skull wasn't providing the necessary space that his thinking machine needed to expand.

He was hating feeling like that first thing in the morning and as the raging pain took residence behind his eyes he swore in a low voice that he was going to get Nash for this.

Yeah, he was going to fucking get him, him and stupid Hunter.

Baring his teeth at the memory of those two, the Chicago native grunted into his pillow and then rolled to his back, his eyes closing automatically as his hands lifted up to cradle his aching head.

"Oh, fuck me raw now." He complained, wondering where the fuck were the aspirins John bought to him the night before.

"Now as in… well, now?" Came the amused voice of the one and only John Cena and at the sound of him, Punk opened one eye to spot him sitting in a chair besides the bed.

Apparently, the man had moved it all the way from the desk and placed it there so he could sit on in; head thrown back, bare feet resting over the mattress and his hands grabbing a big mug of what the tattooed wrestler assumed was coffee.

"I see you're still here" He said in a growl, closing his eye again and breathing in.

Now, he hadn't expected John to still be there… in fact, he hadn't expected anything at all since the first thought to cross his mind was the pain he was going through, not John.

Ah, but he remembered with great detail what happened between them the previous night and how could he not? That his head was hurting didn't mean that he was amnesiac and besides, he woke up with the scent of the other man impregnated in his skin and on sheets so that was a good reminder as any other.

"Nope, this is actually a hologram. The real me is driving to the arena right now so he can sign a few hundred pictures before the show begins."

"Hmm," Punk mumbled, not finding the man to be funny at all. But he didn't know what else to say; he wasn't very good with the 'mornings after' and if it has been his choice, Cena wouldn't have spent the entire night with him.

What was he supposed to say now? He has been on a crusade against Cena and all that he represented for so long and look at him now, he ended up having sex with him and then they slept the entire night together.

"Do you want some coffee?"

Blinking his eyes open, Punk stared at the ceiling for a few seconds and then sighed. "My head is fucking killing me."

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw John getting up to his feet and then he started moving around. Punk didn't know where he was going but he didn't ask nor did he follow him around with his eyes, he just remained there… motionless.

"You know, I got you these yesterday without thinking and I didn't even ask. Do you take aspirins? I mean I'm not very familiar with the whole being Straight Edge thing so I don't know."

"First, it's not a thing, John, it's a way of life; second, being Straight Edge doesn't mean I can't take a damn aspirin when it's needed; it just means that I won't abuse my body by pooping pills one after another just because I can. Now give me that."

Sitting over the bed and knitting his brows, CM Punk grabbed for the couple of aspirins John had on the palm of his hand and then he took a glass of water he was also offering.

He took them without looking up, and once he was done with it John took the empty glass away and sat by his side over the mattress.

"Do you know that you talk in your sleep?" John asked and when Punk looked up, he saw that the older man was flashing his customary dimple smile.

"No I don't." He replied, not believing it for one second. "In fact I never sleep, if you heard me talking was because I was plotting how to get to Nash. I was just doing it with my eyes closed and out loud."

Snorting and lowering his eyes to his lips, John shrugged. "If you say so…"

Punk locked eyes with him, but then he cleared his throat and dragging the blanket along so he could cover his nakedness, he slid out of the bed. "I'm going to take a shower."

Nodding and snorting, John turned around on the mattress but he said nothing, he just followed Punk with his eyes until the younger man walked into the bathroom and closed and locked the door.

"See, this is why you wanted to stay away." He mumbled to himself as he let the blanket fall down to the floor. "Now you'll sound like an ass when you kick him out."

Grunting at the turn of events between him and the golden boy, John Cena, Punk got into the shower and turned it on.

He shouldn't have let things get as far as they did; but somehow he rode along with it and now it was this, John was out in his bed and he would be there when he got out. He would probably want to discuss and label their messed up relationship with a title and he wasn't up to that…

No, he was going to be the jerk that would tell him that nothing more than last night was going to happen between them and then they would be back at being enemies.

He knew how it will be; it happened with Jeff and in some weird kind of way it happened with Serena too.

Now with John, the chances of them ending up brawling in that room were high and in the state that he was, he knew that John was going to get the upper hand.

Shaking his aching head and putting his mind blank to prevent any further discomfort, the Second City Savior went on with his shower and when he was done he walked out and brushed his teeth.

Once everything was done he picked the blanket up and wrapped it over his shoulders to walk out.

Like he has been expecting, John was still there; he was now laying over his mattress and flipping through the channels with the control. But now he had his shoes on and that could only mean that he was leaving…

Pushing the inside of his cheek with his tongue, Phil Brooks walked to the bed and sat down on it, not bothering to dress or to look at John.

"Is your head better?"

Shrugging, Punk blinked… waiting John to start talking the talk.

"Okay…" John chuckled and the Chicago native felt the mattress sink as the older man leaned closer to him. "I think I better go now. I just wanted to make sure you'll wake up feeling better and you did."

With that said, John jumped to his feet and clapped his hands. On his part Punk tilted his head to the side and stared at him. Was that it?

"I got you breakfast and some coffee, they are by the desk. If I was you I would hurry to eat before the food gets cold. Anyway, I left you the aspirins around and earlier on I put your Pepsi on ice so they would be cold by now."

Unable to help it, Punk snorted. "Wow, you sounded like my mother when I was like in fifth grade."

Smiling, John bent down and without giving the other man a chance to react, he kissed him. First his lips just pressed against Punk's, but then he moved his hand to the back of his head and burying his fingers in his hair, he sneaked his tongue into the cave of his mouth.

At the invasion Punk did nothing, he just allowed the older man to kiss him and maybe, just maybe he started to kiss him back.

Tongues dancing together and lips searching each other blindly, the two men kissed for a while, but when the necessity to breathe was urgent, they pulled apart.

"Now I hope that didn't remind you of your mother." John said with a smile and Punk rolled his eyes.

"Why do you always have to smile? It's annoying, you know?"

"Really?" John asked and his smile got even bigger. "Well…" He started to say before placing a quick kiss on the other man's lips. "I'm not always smiling. At least I don't think I do." He finished up by placing yet another kiss and Punk wondered if he should tell him to keep his lips away now.

"Well you are."

"I'll work on that. Anyway, I gotta go now because I'm really running late. Can I see you tonight?"

Pursing his lips, Punk squinted his eyes. "You will, at the show."

"I mean _after_ the show." John said and when Punk moved his head to him, he saw that Cena had all the intensity of his blue eyes focused on him.

That look right there made him want to tell him to fuck off, but at the same time his eyes were drawing him in and he wanted to say yes.

It was just messed up. He was messed up.

"Yes or yes? Your call, no pressure." He said with yet another smile, but this time it was a smile that wasn't quite reaching his eyes. He was just smiling because it was what Cena did, but in his eyes he could see that he was anticipating his answer.

Blowing out a breath, Punk closed his eyes. "I'm so going to regret this."

"No you won't, I'll make sure of that." With that said, John kissed him one last time and went away, leaving Punk behind and thinking.


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks so much for the amazing reviews, you guys rock my world. Now, this is just a short chapter to keep the story going, next one will be better, I promise ;)

**Born Of Anger**

"Did you know that you were my first ever broski of the week in the Z! True Long Island Story?"

Arching one eyebrow and quirking his lips in an awkward smile, the man known within his circle as CM Punk crossed his arms up to his chest and without taking his eyes away from the young man sitting across from him, he rested his back against his chair. "Really?"

"Yes! I have the video to prove it; wanna to watch it?" Zack asked over excitedly and before Punk could either say yes or no, Ryder already had his phone out and was moving his chair closer to his. "I can make you broski again; I can even make you a special guest in the next episode!"

Lifting his hand to scratch his jaw almost compulsively, Punk blew out a breath and then shook his head. Zack Ryder… for some reason the man has come to him while he sat alone at catering and for the last twenty minutes or so he has been talking nonstop about everything and nothing at all.

He told him about his YouTube show, he talked proudly about some internet championship he made, he ranted about his dad being the biggest Jomosapien in the world, whatever the hell that was, and he even told him about some Princess Leia dumping him and taking away all his pillows with her.

Overall, the man was overwhelming him with his constant chatter and for some reason, he couldn't bring out the asshole in him to tell him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. "Wow, that sounds rad, Zack… but I don't know, maybe you could get a new broski of the week. I bet there's someone in that locker room who's dying to be in that show."

Gasping, Zack dropped his phone and mumbled. "John Cena."

At the mention of that name, Punk blinked a few times and bit his lip ring into his mouth. "Yeah, he probably is a big fan." And why not? They shared the same enthusiasm over stupid things and they were both annoying as fuck. Ah, but he would take three John Cenas over one Zack Ryder… not that the kid was extremely awful… but after last night John was…

"No, I mean John Cena is walking this way." Zack hissed and Punk arched an eyerow while tilting his head up. "Do you think he'll let me film him or do I do it while he's not looking?" He asked through clenched teeth and a big smile; Punk watched him and rolled his eyes.

"Punk, Zack…" John said and out of the corner of his eye, the Chicago native saw him take a chair from a nearby table to drag it near him. Once positioned where he wanted, he sat down by his side. "Do you have your phone here?" He asked looking at Punk and before he could answer, the bigger man grabbed his iPhone from his lap and started to dial.

"Yeah, sure… go ahead and use it, John." Punk said sarcastically as he watched his onetime lover smirk.

"Thanks man, I just need it to call myself. I don't know where I put mine…" He said and as if in cue, a phone started to ring and he snorted. "Oh there it is; it was in my pocket all the time. I don't know where my mind is nowadays. Here, let me save you in my contacts list now…"

Through half closed eyes, Punk observed as John took his own phone out of his pocket. Once out, he grabbed it in both hands and started to press the buttons.

Did he just use that trick on him to get his phone number?

"Can I film you both for my show?" Zack blurted out and as soon as the words were asked, Punk rasped a no while John just chuckled. "You don't have to say anything!"

"I'll tell you what, come to me tomorrow and we'll do something." Cena said with a big smile of his own.

"Are you serious bro?" Zack laughed out loud, jumping out of his chair. "Did you hear that, we'll do something tomorrow! Woo Woo Woo!"

Frowning and leering around to make sure no one was watching him with those two, Punk slid his chair to the right, putting a bit of distance between him and John.

Not that it mattered who was watching, after all the show has ended a little over one hour ago and besides Zack Ryder who was now jumping and woo wooing to the door, just a few technicians and Hornswoggle remained behind.

"So, were you waiting for me?" John asked, sliding his chair towards Punk's while his sparkling blue orbs searched for his.

"No." The tattooed man replied, dropping his hands to the table so he could reach for the can of Red Bull he has been drinking when Zack came to him. It was lukewarm by then but he still gulped it down in three swallows.

"Okay, okay. If you say so…"

"Yeah, I say so because I _wasn't_ waiting for you." Punk said while he moved his eyes towards John. For a moment he just stared at him and the older man held his gaze, the corner of his lips curving into the beginning of one of his big bright smiles.

"How are you feeling now?"

Shrugging, Punk sighed. "I feel like I just survived a full moon after being raped by a bulimic werewolf."

Snorting and blinking his eyes slowly, John frowned and tilted his head to the side. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, don't mind me. I feel better." In fact he felt much, much better. A couple of aspirins, a full day of bed rest and a day off from the gym really did wonders to his body.

"Good, because for a moment I thought you were talking about what happened last night."

Ah, there he started. The mandatory talk about their night together. He didn't want to have that talk, not now, not ever.

Shrugging and looking towards the table Hornswoggle was attacking by eating everything on it, Punk pushed the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "Nope, unless you are a werewolf and I don't really think you are,"

Chuckling and leaning to him, John arched and eyebrow. "Trust me, I'm not. But I don't know, you were all banged up last night and maybe I was a bit rough on you…"

Tilting his head to the left and finding that John was way too close to him, Punk saw the apologetically look the older man had in his face and he shrugged him off. Yes, John hadn't been tender with him but it wasn't like he tore his ass in two. Besides, he gave him the same treatment afterwards, fucking him raw and with no preparation whatsoever.

"I'm a big boy, I can handle that without you having to come to me with that stupid look on your face. You fucked me, I fucked you and that's it, let's move on."

"Alright, let's move on then. So where do you want to go?" John said enthusiastically while getting up to his feet.

"What do you mean with where do I want to go?"

Squinting his eyes, John shook his head. "Come on, Punk, don't you think it's time you drop that little act?"

"What act?" Punk asked back, going once again to folding his arms to his chest as he eyed the other man.

"This… act. Look," Sitting back down and leaning forward while his hands searched his to grab them, Cena smiled. "You know I like you, I think I made that pretty clear a long time ago and by now I feel confident enough to say that you like me too. So…"

Pulling his hands away from John's, Punk cleared his throat and placed them down his chin. "So what, John? I can like a lot of things and that doesn't mean I will get them all. It's like food, I love food but I have to evade carbs like the pest or else I'll have to move to the gym 24/7…"

Mimicking Punk and resting his chin over his hands, John smiled dreamily and his eyes sparkled. "Do you think these people would notice if I kiss you right here, right now?"

Humming, Punk shook his head. "Are you even listening to me?"

"No… not really, do you want to go to my tour bus? I don't want to brag but I'm sure you'll like it there. It looks pretty cool in the mornings."

"Is that so?"

"Yup; come on man, you put food as an example a while ago and admit it, I know you get your cheat meals at least weekly. Tonight can be one of those, I'll be your cheat meal." John said smiling and lowering his eyes to Punk's lips.

Blowing out a breath and running one hand down his face, Punk shrugged. "Alright, let's go…"

Doing a double take, John snorted. "Really?"

Standing up and stretching, Punk groaned. "Yeah, let's go before I change my mind."

"Great, then let's get moving."


	13. Chapter 13

**Born Of Anger**

Sucking in a breath and focusing his olive green eyes in the way he slid in and out of John's tight passage, CM Punk continued rocking his hips against the bigger frame of the other man while he held his legs up and apart.

By then he was in a frenzy; his breathing was labored, his face was flushed with the intensity of his desire and his eyes had a feral glint in them that made them look darker than their original color.

"Fuck, Phil… if you keep like this I'm gonna cum soon."

Hearing those words motivated the Chicago native to look up to John's face and he grinned maliciously, slowing down his tempo as his tongue darted out pass his lips to run smoothly over his lip ring.

"What was that, John?" Punk asked in a strangled breath, pulling almost all the way out and staying there, dick throbbing and his balls heavy.

Groaning, John bit on his lips and reached down to his engorged cock so he could stroke it, probably trying to reach that sweet sensation of release Punk was denying him.

Punk let him do it… for now, sliding back in until he was buried all the way inside of John and then retreating only to slam back in.

On his part John moaned what Punk thought was the sluttiest moan he has ever heard and if it was possible, he grew even harder than he already was.

Now, stopping for a while and watching Cena pump his erection almost frantically, Punk licked his lips and grinned. He didn't come into John's bus for this and quite frankly he couldn't really explain how they ended up like that.

He wasn't sure why he accepted John's invitation and for a while he justified it by saying to himself that he just wanted to check the bus out since he was getting one of his own and he was curious.

But he knew that was bullshit and when John closed the door to the small bedroom and took off his shirt while he was making some witty remark about the DVD collection sprawled over the floor, he knew what was coming and he did nothing to stop it.

He basically just allowed Cena to assault him with his kisses and he let himself be carried into the moment.

After John's shirt was gone, the DVD's were forgotten, his own shirt followed closed behind and before he knew it they were both in bed all over each other. Sneakers were kicked off, clothes started to disappear and once bare of everything, they kept kissing.

Flesh against flesh, the started touching all over, kissing until they were out of breath and basically dry humping like teenagers dealing with a bad case of raging hormones; then, as was to be expected, things got a bit more personal and now it was this.

His cock was taking residence deep inside the one and only John Cena's ass while said man jerked himself into fulfillment.

Pursing his lips, Phil let go of Cena's legs and went to grab his hands, taking the left one off his cock and the right one off his stomach so he could pin them both over his head.

"Are you a lefty or you just jerk off left handed?" Punk asked with a smirk while John tilted his head up towards him.

"Are you fucking asking me that right now? Just fuck me, Phil… fuck me hard."

Complying to the request, Punk started thrusting hard into the man below him until his own blood started to ring in his ears. It just felt good to be there, doing that to John…

Yeah, the previous night has been good, but he wasn't really a hundred percent in his right mind so he didn't think he enjoyed the experience to its maximums. Now it was different, he knew what he was doing and he has been at it for a while, giving the older man what he clearly wanted while satisfying his own needs.

"Like this, is this how you want me to fuck you, Johnny boy?" Groaning, Punk closed his eyes, feeling John pushing his face into the crook of his neck and his lips pressing to his shoulder.

"Yes, like this…" He kissed him on the spot two times before parting his lips and sucking his flesh into his mouth.

That right there made Punk emit a raspy moan and before he could help it, he opened his eyes and tightened his hold on John. "Bite me-"

Humming, John darted his hips against Punk's and bit him right on his shoulder blade. The sensation was too much for the young man and in a matter of nothing his thrusts became erratic and he was emptying his load deep inside John.

Groaning, moaning and riding his climax, Punk was barely aware when Cena sneaked his hands out of his hold and locked them to the back of his head to bring his face to his.

Once he had him there he kissed him sloppily, reaching his own climax and shooting his hot essence between both their bodies.

"Shit…" Phil mumbled against the other man's lips as John moaned and trashed beneath him; soon after he collapsed to the side, sliding out of John and rolling to his back.

"Jesus man;" John breathed out with a laugh. "If we are gonna keep with this we need to buy some lube. I mean it's not like I'm whining but seriously, a couple more times and I won't be able to walk without a limp."

After saying that he laughed again and out of the corner of his eye he saw him dragging his hand down his face.

"There you are laughing again; were you molested by a care bear when you were a child? I mean that good mood is abnormal."

"Hmmm," John mumbled and rolled to his side. "I'm not always in a good mood as I'm sure you are not always in a bad mood." With that said, the older man leaned into Punk and kissed him full on the lips. "Anyway, are you hungry? I can tell the driver to pull over somewhere."

Lowering his eyes, Punk breathed in. Yes, that his bags were in the bus and that the chauffeur was driving to the next town they had to perform kind of meant that they were traveling together.

He should have known that right there was a bad sign and he should have ran from it instead of telling himself that nothing was going to happen.

Now things happened and not for the first time, another sign that things were getting messed up.

"John…" He started to say, but before he could go on the older man brushed him away and sat down over the bed.

"I have your cum sliding out of my ass so if you are going to tell me to fuck off, wait until I clean up a bit."

After saying that, the Massachusetts' own jumped out of the bed and headed straight into the bathroom. He was there for at least ten minutes and when he got out he found Punk sitting over the mattress and hiding his nakedness with a blanket.

Looking up, the tattooed wrestler saw that John was smiling his infamous dimple smile while wearing cargo shorts but no shirt.

"Okay, shot;" He said sitting back on the bed and running his fingers through his brow.

Punk lifted his arms and then let them fall back to his lips.

"Okay, let me help you here; you don't do relationships, you hate me, you think I'm annoying and you want me to pull over the nearest hotel to drop you by. Am I right?"

Chuckling, Punk shifted where he sat and faced John. "Relationships, John? Is that what you want here?"

Smiling, John shrugged. "I don't know, I mean maybe eventually… but for now I'll be happy if you let us explore this thing we have here. Now before you say we don't have anything let me remind you what happened here, what happened last night and yeah, back in Chicago too." He said almost sheepishly and Punk snorted.

"You don't need to remind me, I know what happened all those times." And how could he forget, his flesh has been week and right or wrong, time after time he gave into his desire.

Yes they had something going on and he had to admit that John wasn't as bad as he always thought. Yes, his wardrobe needed a change and he was sure that he was going to annoy him to no end; but he also knew that he also wanted to explore whatever was going on between them and how knew, a lot of things could happen eventually…

"Look, I know we haven't been…"

Before he could go on, Punk grabbed John's face and planted a kiss on his lips, making the other man smile brightly. "You talk too much and you'll give me a headache so shut up. Now be a good host and get us something to eat, I'm starving."

"Alright, Punk boy, I'll feed you and then-"

"Punk boy?" Phil asked with a snort. "What the fuck is that?"

"Well, it's almost as bad as Johnny boy so I guess we are even… wait… now that I think about it we are not even all around but I'll get to that later on… maybe after dinner." He mumbled, taking the blanket away and revealing a very naked Phil.

Taking a pillow and putting it over his lap, Punk pushed John away and shrugged. "Yeah, yeah; maybe in your dreams."

Leaning closer, John smiled and mumbled raspily. "Punk, I've been there and done that and trust me, if it's not tonight, then it's going to be soon."

"You know I can take my things and get off this bus, don't you?"

"Ha, as if I'll let you now that you are a step closer to admitting that you like me too.

"Feed me and we'll talk about this later." Punk said and snorting, John jumped out of bed once again to tell his driver to stop somewhere to eat.

Waiting, Phil smiled and lay back over the mattress, knowing that if John played his cards right that night, he would admit that yes, he liked him too.

**FIN**

Okay, so this came to an end suddenly but I'm working on ending a few stories before getting into a long, long hiatus that could last forever. This was one of the few that I didn't want to leave unfinished and it's the second I end. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and thanks for all the great reviews that kept encouraging me to write more and more until tonight, thanks and take care ;)


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